


But still good

by thrace



Series: We found it all on our own [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:21:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 46,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6533236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thrace/pseuds/thrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke gets roped into taking Octavia's kids to their soccer game - where she meets hot coach Lexa, who's in charge of the Nightbloods U10 team and her nephew Aden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this is all just relentless fluff to make myself feel better about everything.

"Please please please," Octavia begs into her cell phone.

On the other end of the line, Clarke continues painting, leaving her cell on speakerphone at the bottom of her easel. "Fine. But you don't get to complain when I bring them back all sugared up."

"I have long since given up on getting mad at you about that because my own children would never forgive me for stopping Cool Aunt Clarke from feeding them cookies nonstop," Octavia says, her tone indicating exactly the opposite of her words. "Please come get them at nine tomorrow okay love you bye."

She hangs up before Clarke can get in another word edgewise.

"Shit," Clarke says, realizing how early she'll have to get up on a Saturday. The weekends are for _sleeping_. She treats Octavia's kids like they're her own but hauling herself over to the Blake house before nine on a Saturday is a true test of love. She drops her paintbrush in a cup. 

" _Shit_."

*

Clarke pulls up in front of Octavia and Lincoln's still yawning, but functional thanks to her espresso machine. 

She doesn't even have to get out of the car; the Blake twins are already barreling out the front door, yelling war cries while an exhausted-looking Octavia waves goodbye. "Thanks Clarke," she calls out, and Clarke just manages to lift one hand from the steering wheel. 

The twins open the back door and suddenly her car is filled with noise as two nine-year-olds jam themselves and their equipment bags into the seats. "Hi Aunt Clarke!" they say in unison before their conversation devolves into two separate audio streams.

On the right, Nyko is saying something about video games, while on the left, Indra is rambling about how many goals she wants to score in the game. Clarke has long since learned to just let their combined noise wash over her and to ask for clarification later on anything important.

"Seat belts," she reminds them, making sure they comply before pulling away. They don't stop chattering for a second.

She swallows another yawn just as they pull up to the large community fields, which are filled with swarms of kids and their parents. Nyko and Indra are already pulling off their seatbelts, getting their equipment bags tangled up in their excitement to go.

"Hold on guys," Clarke says, getting out of the car first. She knows all too well how easy it is to lose track of one or both of the Blake twins. The Great Grocery Store Panic of two years ago is still fresh in her memory, as is the Great Grocery Store Mess on Aisle 17 that immediately followed it.

She goes around to the back to let out the twins, opening the door like a zookeeper releasing a pair of tigers. The kids burst free, already looking for their field while Clarke pulls her supplies out of the trunk. Cooler in one hand, foldable chair in the other, she guides them into the complex to one of the smaller fields at the west end. 

It's still early in the season so the air isn't quite crisp yet; summer lingers in the air and the still-green tree leaves. Clarke is glad to be in khaki shorts and a loose navy scoop-neck top as she trudges along, looking for the twins' soccer coach, some middle-aged guy who volunteers for the youth soccer association.

But as they near the field Clarke can't see anyone familiar. "Where's your coach?" she asks.

"We got a new one this season!" says Indra, pointing.

Clarke follows her finger to a woman holding a dry erase clipboard at the edge of the field. Her wavy brown hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her eyes are hidden behind aviators but she looks about the same age as Clarke. And fit. Very fit. In her plain black tank top and matching shorts with the YSA logo on them, it's obvious she's physically active and Clarke clenches the cooler handle. "Oh," she says.

Indra and Nyka take off, bags jouncing around at their sides, yelling "Coach Lexa! Coach Lexa!"

She looks up at their approach and smiles and Clarke groans internally at just how attractive she is. Then she pulls her sunglasses up and perches them on top of her head and Clarke doubles her groaning because she does not need to deal with this. She's focusing on her work at the moment and hot coaches who are probably not single are a distraction she can't afford.

Still, she walks over to the area where the parents have started gathering and pops out her chair, setting the cooler right next to it. She knows some of the parents already from last season when the twins begged her to come to their games, and they know her as Octavia and Lincoln's family friend who doesn't really know the rules of soccer, but cheers hard for the twins anyway.

Coach Lexa approaches her as soon as she's got her chair set up and holds out one hand, using the other to prop her clipboard against her waist. "Hi, I'm Lexa Forrester," she says.

Her grip is firm and her shake is professional, once up and once down. Clarke's hand tingles. "I'm Clarke. Griffin." She points to the twins, who have thrown down their bags and are now kicking a ball between them with gusto. "Here with the destructo twins since Octavia and Lincoln couldn't make it."

"They're great," Lexa says, her smile small but friendly. 

"You're, uh, new?" Clarke asks. 

"Moved here over the summer," Lexa says. She points to a tow-headed bow running up to join the twins. "That's my nephew, Aden. I volunteered when he signed up."

"That's so great. The last coach was..." Clarke hesitates, not wanting to badmouth him in front of someone who might consider him a friend.

"I know, he wasn't the most competitive," Lexa says. She swings her clipboard around to hold it in front of her body, bracing the edge against her stomach. "I have to go get them ready for the game. I'll see you later, Clarke." She flips her aviators down and strides off, already calling for her team.

Clarke settles down in her chair and pulls out a chilled bottle of water, trying not to ogle Lexa as she crouches in front of her players, showing them something on her clipboard. When she stands up she has all the kids place their hands in the middle of the circle and pump them until they fly up with a resounding "Nightbloods!" Clarke thinks the team name is kind of macabre, but it's apparently just a reference to the name of the first woman who coached the team back when the league was first started.

Lexa points to six of the kids - twins included - and the other four return to the sidelines with Lexa, waiting for the referee. 

Clarke doesn't really pretend to know what's going on, even with this reduced six-versus-six format for the lower age groups. They don't play with full adult rules anyway, and it's enough to know when Indra scores goal after goal and Nyko stubbornly slides into the feet of a player trying to shoot. Clarke claps and whistles, takes video on her phone for Octavia and Lincoln, and watches Lexa out of the corner of her eye against her better instincts.

She rotates the kids out to give them all fair playing time, consoling the ones who make mistakes and congratulating everyone for their hard work. At halftime she gathers them under a shady tree some distance from the parents and speaks quietly to them, then leads them in a little cheer before kickoff. 

After sixty minutes, the ref blows her whistle. The Nightbloods have won an astonishing seven to one, with Indra accounting for three of those goals. She and Nyko beam at each other, liberally streaked with dirt, grass stains up and down their uniforms. Clarke doesn't know how Lincoln and Octavia ever manage to keep either twin clean for longer than a few hours.

"Great job guys!" she says, handing each one a juice box as they trot over to her, still panting a little but with energy to spare. 

"Did you see me score a hat trick?" Indra asks at the same time that Nyko says "Did you see me save that one goal going into the corner?"

"I did," Clarke says to both of them. "And I recorded it to show your parents. They're gonna be so proud of you." She glances over to the other side of the field where Lexa is gathering up balls and cones in a large mesh bag. "You guys like Coach Lexa?"

"She's great!" says Indra. "She showed me how to do this!" She does some kind of maneuver with her feet that Clarke can't really interpret without a ball. 

"I didn't wanna be a goalkeeper but Coach Lexa says goalkeepers are special!" Nyko says, puffing up his little chest. 

"Uh huh," Clarke says, now watching as Lexa bends over at the waist to pick something up. She twitches out of it when Lexa turns around, scanning the field for anything else she might have left behind. This is just so terribly inconvenient and Clarke knows it and it absolutely does not stop her from eagerly standing up when Lexa approaches them, Aden following behind her.

"Great game today guys," Lexa tells the twins, and they beam up at her. Aden peeks around his aunt's body, looking shyly up at Clarke. "Aden, this is Clarke. She's a friend of Mr. and Mrs. Blake."

"Hi," Aden says.

"Hey, do you guys want to go play for a bit while I talk to your coach?" Clarke asks, and the twins immediately drag Aden away to kick a spare ball. 

Lexa smiles after them, obviously happy to see them enjoying themselves. She turns that smile back on Clarke, who feels all resistance to finding Lexa attractive melt away. "You're great with them," she says.

"Oh, uh. Thank you," Lexa says, turning slightly shy, though it's hard to tell under her aviators. 

"How long have you been coaching?"

"Just this season. I played a little bit in college but I never coached until Aden signed up." 

"He seems like a great kid. You're a much cooler aunt than me," Clarke says. 

"The twins have mentioned you before," Lexa says. "Something about unlimited ice cream?"

Clarke covers her face with her hands. "Oh no. That was _one_ time and it was their birthday." She peeks out at Lexa, who is not quite laughing at her but not bothering to hide it. She defends herself. "That's what cool aunts do anyway. I promised I'd spoil them for their entire childhoods."

They watch the kids run around a little longer, letting their antics fill the gaps in their conversation.

"So are you guys doing anything after the game?" Clarke asks. "You're more than welcome to join us. I'm just taking the twins to eat lunch and then bringing them back home."

Lexa folds her arms and a subtle distance springs up between them. "Oh, I don't..."

The kids, who somehow sense that they're the topic of discussion, run up in a happy mass. "Aunt Clarke, can Aden come eat with us?" Indra asks.

Aden looks to Lexa hopefully. 

Lexa caves. "Sure, if it's fine with Clarke."

"It's definitely fine with me," Clarke says, giving Aden a big smile. 

Lexa loosens up, but not by much. "Just let me make sure everyone's parents have picked them up," she says. 

"All right," Clarke says, holding her hands out for low-fives from the twins, then offering them to Aden as well. She gets three sets of good slaps. "Great game, great game, great game. Now who's ready for pizza?"

The twins immediately start chanting "Pi-ZZA pi-ZZA pi-ZZA," one on each side of Aden, jostling him until he joins in. Clarke can see that he's quieter without their influence, but doesn't mind being drawn out of his shell judging from his little smile. And with Lexa coming back to them, biceps flexing nicely from the equipment bag slung over her shoulder, it's turning into a much better Saturday than she could have hoped.

*

The twins want to run off again immediately after they arrive at the family pizza joint where Clarke brings them after soccer games sometimes, but even a place that caters to children has its limits, so Clarke makes them sit in the booth with Aden and talk amongst themselves.

Lexa sits opposite the three kids, next to Clarke, and fidgets with her folded aviators on the table top.

"So, what do you do when you're not leading kids to overwhelming victory?" Clarke asks.

Lexa pauses in her fiddling, then resumes. "I just started as the P.E. teacher at Saint Rebecca's this semester."

"Oh my god, I went to Saint Rebecca's," Clarke says. The school is fairly posh, as schools go, and Clarke had spent seven long years there rebelling against the dress code and strict rules, enabled the entire way by Octavia and Raven. She looks at the kids and lowers her voice. "Is it still really..." She makes a face.

Lexa smiles. "I think they relaxed a little bit. Girls can wear pants now, that sort of stuff. New principal a few years ago got them to be less..." She imitates Clarke's face. And then, as if sensing they're having a moment, she goes back to her sunglasses, occasionally glancing in the direction of the kitchen. "What do you do?" she asks eventually.

"I'm an artist," Clarke says. "Mostly oil paints, but I work in other mediums."

"That sounds nice, being able to do something creative with your life," Lexa says.

"Sometimes it still feels like a dream. Except when the student loan bills come in the mail," Clarke says. Another small smile goes between them. "So where did you move from?"

Lexa's face drops and her answer is mechanical. "Baltimore," she says, and the way she says it implies to Clarke that there's much more to the story, but it's far too soon to press her for an answer.

"Oh, that's not too far," Clarke says. "I guess you got to see Aden pretty regularly before you moved then?"

Lexa is outright fidgeting now. "I had to travel a lot for work, so not really."

Clarke is perishing of curiosity at this point but she doesn't want to make Lexa even more uncomfortable, so she changes topics. "That game was really something though. Seven to one?"

And it works; Lexa's shoulders go down and her fingers still against her sunglasses. She turns towards Clarke a little more so they can look at each other while they speak. "The team is great. All the players are really talented." She knows the kids can overhear her and slyly ignores that they've started to listen in. "I think if we work really hard this season we could win the entire league."

"We didn't even win half our games last season," says Indra, but in the defiant way of her mother, the one that says _challenge fucking accepted_.

"That was last season," Lexa says, meeting Indra's stare. "Every new season is a chance to do better."

"I bet I score the most goals anyone has ever scored in the league!" says Indra. 

"I'm gonna get the most shutouts!" says Nyko. He nudges Aden. "You're gonna help us win the league, you're the fastest player on the team."

"I bet I'm faster," says indra, and then they're devolving into an argument that nearly has them going into the parking lot to prove it until Lexa shoots her arm out, barring the booth exit. 

"Okay," she says. "I love the fire, but part of being a good competitor is knowing when to save it for another day."

They settle down then, just in time for the pizza to come out, and then they're distracted by the food. 

"I've never seen Indra back down that fast," Clarke says, lowering her voice. 

"Probably because you don't control whether she gets to play or not," Lexa replies, a hint of banter in her voice. "I was a competitive kid too. You just have to learn how to channel it without turning into an asshole." She winces, eyes flicking towards Aden. "I mean, a jerk."

"Oh man, do Aden's parents get on you about the cursing?" Clarke asks. "Lincoln practically made me swear a blood oath I would try to curse less around the twins after they dropped an F bomb at their fourth birthday party."

And there it is again; Lexa clams up, withdrawing almost completely. She focuses on her food and mumbles "Not really."

So Clarke keeps it casual from that point on, just her job and coaching the team and the twins. She know when someone is hurting and doesn't want to make Lexa feel worse. There's clearly a lot more going on here than Lexa just moving to D.C. from Baltimore and volunteering to be her nephew's soccer coach.

Clarke pays for lunch - Lexa tries to split the bill with her but she demurs with something about her kids eating twice as much - and they part ways in the parking lot. Aden waves goodbye to the twins, looking pleased to have spent time with his friends. Lexa shakes Clarke's hand again, but it feels formal and perfunctory, the kind of handshake business partners give each other before leaving a meeting. 

"So did you guys have fun today?" Clarke asks on the drive home, trying not to think about Lexa and all her mysteriousness. 

More doubled chatter, Indra holding up three fingers and waving them at Clarke in the rearview mirror, Nyko making diving motions the best he can constrained by his seatbelt. 

"Maybe Aden can come over to our house for sleepover," Indra says.

"You'll have to ask your parents about that," says Clarke.

"Aden says he doesn't have a mom and dad," says Nyko. "He should spend time at our house cause we have a mom and dad."

"Oh," says Clarke, and a lot of things suddenly become clear. She catches their attention in the rearview. "Guys, I'm glad Aden felt comfortable enough to tell you about his parents, but just remember he might not want other kids to know that, ok? That's his information to tell."

"What about mom and dad?" Nyko asks.

"You guys can tell your mom and dad anything," Clarke says. 

"Like the time you let us use a blowtorch in your studio?" Indra asks.

"NO," Clarke says immediately, at which point the twins exchange a glance, and she knows she's about to have to make yet another bargain to keep herself from getting into trouble with Octavia. 

*

Clarke spends the rest of the weekend thinking about her father. She sketches what she remembers of him: his strong hands, his kind smile, the way his hair would flop into his eyes when he was working. It's been over a decade since he passed and she can still feel his absence from her life. He would have loved her work, would have embarrassed her at all her exhibits walking around and crowing about his daughter the artist. He would have seen her graduate from college, would have been proud of the way she refused any help from her mom as she struggled to establish herself and work two jobs at the same time. He would have been the first person to buy a painting from her. 

But time has at least ground down the sharpness of her feelings, until she can remember her father without much more than a dull ache. She even smiles, thinking about how she would sit in his lap and play around with the modeling programs on his computer, or cooking weekend brunch together.

On Wednesday she and Octavia meet up for lunch as a thank-you for taking the twins to their game.

"The twins want you to come to every game this season," says Octavia over their food. "Apparently the three games you attended last season weren't enough."

"They just want pizza after every game," Clarke says, although it always brings her a spark of happiness that the twins like her so much. 

"They also told me about the little pizza date you had with Lexa," Octavia says, sipping her iced tea and staring at Clarke over the rim of the glass.

"Pretty sure I made her deeply uncomfortable by asking a lot of personal questions," Clarke says ruefully.

Octavia leans in. "Yeah, what's the deal there?" she asks.

"I mean, Aden told the twins his parents are gone. I assume Lexa takes care of him," Clarke says, remembering the advice she gave Indra and Nyko in the car. Lexa's story is hers to tell and her extreme reticence to share any of it makes Clarke protective of what little she does know.

Octavia squints at her. "You like her."

Clarke nearly gags on a french fry. "Excuse me?"

"You think she's hot. Admit it. You asked her out for lunch."

"The twins asked Aden to lunch."

"Clarke Griffin I've known you since before you had boobs. I know you have a type, and I know you probably took one look at my kids' soccer coach and thought about how you haven't dated anyone in over a year." Octavia isn't smug, just matter-of-fact, and Clarke is mad that she can't even rebut her in good faith.

"Yes, she's hot, but she's totally emotionally unavailable," Clarke says. "I mean, I can guess why."

"Well then just be friends with her," Octavia says. "Don't let her tragic past stop you from leaving your studio more than once a month."

"I go out," Clarke says defensively. "I do stuff. I'm out with you right now."

"I don't count, we're family. You have to see me," Octavia points out. "Clarke, all you do is work. Raven agrees with me."

"Since when do you discuss my social life with Raven?" Clarke asks.

"Since we met you," Octavia says, as if it should be obvious. "Look, come to the game this weekend. Me and Linc'll be there to deal with the kids so all you have to do is show up, cheer, and be charming."

"I'll think about it," Clarke grouses, but she already knows what she's doing that Saturday.

*

This game is even earlier than the weekend before, and Clarke grumbles all the way to the soccer field. She carts her camp chair and a bottle of water to Field 3 as instructed by Octavia's email and lets out an _oof_ when the twins collide with her in a simultaneous hug.

"Hi Aunt Clarke!" comes the stereo greeting.

"Hey guys," she says, readjusting her sunglasses from where they'd been jostled almost off her face. "Good luck today. You're gonna kill it."

They're off again just like that, joining their friends as they practice passing and taking shots. Across the field, Lexa seems to stare at her, once again half-hidden behind her aviators. Clarke plays it cool, relaxing in her chair, sipping her water, enjoying the last of the warm season. 

Lincoln sits next to her, watching as Octavia paces back and forth, clapping for everything but otherwise keeping her mouth shut.

"She's better this season," Clarke notes.

"We got an email from Lexa asking for...less sideline coaching," Lincoln says. He sounds incredibly amused by the notion.

"How'd Octavia react to that?" Clarke asks, already imagining the scene.

"Well, she threatened to ban Octavia from games if she didn't comply, so..." Lincoln is nearly outright laughing now.

"And she's still alive?" Clarke watches Lexa with renewed interest. 

"She also pointed out it was making Indra nervous to have her mother so invested in her performance at a young age," says Lincoln. His mouth twists. "I wish we'd seen it sooner, but Indra's a lot happier playing soccer now."

Clarke watches as the girl flies past, her face stretched in an exultant grin while she dribbles. "What about Nyko?"

"You know Nyko. He's always happiest doing whatever Indra is doing."

True enough, Nyko is in goal, yelling encouragement at Indra. 

For the rest of the game she switches between watching the twins wreak havoc, Octavia pacing but behaving herself, and Lexa managing her players. Lexa always has a pat on the back or a kind word for players she subs out, with an extra ruffle of the hair for Aden. 

The final whistle blows at six to nothing, yet another crushing victory, although Lexa is quick to have her players line up and shake hands, as well as cheer for their opponents. 

Indra goes running to Octavia, crashing into her arms and getting swung around. Nyko does the same with Lincoln and Clarke watches them with overwhelming fondness, her little extended family. Nothing can replace her father, but she has so many new people to love that her heart feels even fuller than before sometimes.

"Can Aden come over this afternoon?" asks Indra, staring up at her mother. Both twins know that Octavia is the one to ask for sudden favors and Lincoln is the one who responds to carefully thought-out requests.

"Sure," Octavia agrees easily. "If it's ok with Coach Lexa."

The twins take off, yelling for Aden to ask his aunt if he can come over.

"They're gonna corrupt that poor kid," Clarke says. 

"Maybe he'll get them to stop making so much trouble," Lincoln points out with far too much optimism for someone who has actually lived with the twins for nine years and counting.

Octavia shakes her head at Clarke, asking her not to disillusion her husband. 

Nyko runs back over, barely able to get the words out between excited panting breaths. "She...said...yes!"

Octavia double-checks with a look and Lexa gives her a thumbs up before resuming what looks like a serious conversation with Indra and Aden. 

Clarke helps with the packing and picking up any stray litter from the field and walks back to the parking lot with the Blakes, three happy, sweaty kids in their wake. Lexa is still with them, patiently answering questions from Indra about the game. 

Once at their cars, she hugs Aden and slips him some cash, then confers with Octavia while Clarke tries not to eavesdrop. Today she looks even better than last weekend, wearing another tank top that shows off her collarbones and the cut of her triceps. Clarke can see faint tan lines around the edges of the straps and wonders what it would be like to watch Lexa play soccer properly, not just milling around with kids. 

"Good game, coach," Clarke says, watching Lexa dump her equipment bag in the trunk of her car. 

"Thanks," she says. She leans against her car, arms folded, aviators glinting. "You're pretty close to the Blakes."

"Yeah, me and Octavia go way back. Like..." Clarke counts off the years in her head. "Nearly twenty years now."

Lexa's eyebrows pop up. 

"And I guess I'm technically godmother to her kids. One of the godmothers," Clarke says. 

"That's a pretty big technicality," Lexa says. She seems to hesitate. "One of the godmothers?"

"Yeah, our friend Raven. We met her in high school and we kind of just stuck together since." 

Lexa is momentarily distracted by Aden climbing into the Blakes' car; she bites her lip and frowns, as though anxious to see him leaving. 

"Don't worry," Clarke says, following her gaze. "He's gonna have a great time. If Octavia and Lincoln can raise the twins, they can definitely handle one more kid, especially one as well-behaved as Aden."

"Oh, I'm not worried, it's not..." Lexa's voice trails off, seeing how unconvinced Clarke is. "I don't like to let him out of my sight," she admits.

"I get it. I lost the twins in a supermarket once and it was probably the worst ten minutes of my life," Clarke says. She leans against the car too, balancing her hip against the trunk lid while she faces Lexa. "What are you doing now? We could get coffee, take your mind off of it."

"I..." Lexa seems to stop herself from an automatic rejection, an indecipherable look coming over her face. She pushes off from the car. "Okay. Sure."

Clarke was expecting another deflection, so she's momentarily caught off guard. "Okay? Okay. I mean, great, I know a place. Follow me in your car?"

Lexa agrees, so Clarke leads her away from the suburbs and back towards the city, avoiding D.C. proper and bringing them down to Arlington, which is closer to the Blakes' house. The coffee shop where she parks is a favorite of hers; it has a quiet back room with a table that gets good natural light where she can draw without interruption, and the baristas all know her and bring her refills of tea without asking.

"This place is nice," Lexa says, settling in an overstuffed armchair on the other side of a small coffee table from Clarke. 

"I spend a lot of time here, whenever I'm doing prep work for a show," Clarke says. The barista is already bringing her a pot of tea and Clarke gives her an easy smile.

"Thanks for bringing me here. It's good for Aden to make friends. I'm just...I worry about him." Lexa shrugs. 

Clarke takes a risk, hoping to get enough out in the open that they can talk a little more freely. "Aden told the twins about his parents, and they told me. I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's ok. I'm glad he can talk about it with someone." Lexa lets out a slightly shaky breath. "It was a car crash this past spring. They were on their way to pick up Aden from school and the other driver veered into their lane."

"I'm so sorry," Clarke says. She wants to lean forward to touch Lexa, put a soothing hand on her knee, but something tells her Lexa would react badly to the touch. They're not even really friends yet, but Clarke has thought about her every day for a week, and that's not nothing. She hopes it's not nothing.

"Anyway, I'm just glad he's coming out of his shell a little bit. It's part of why I signed him up for soccer," Lexa says. 

"And volunteered to coach. That's really admirable," Clarke says.

A tight smile from Lexa, but not much else. 

"So, uh. What can I get you. My treat," Clarke says.

"No, you got the pizza last time. Let me," Lexa says, already standing up to head back to the counter. "What kind of tea is that?"

"Jasmine," Clarke says, accepting that Lexa wants to get back at least a little control in their conversation. Her phone chirps while Lexa is gone, and she pulls it out of her jeans pocket to find a text from Octavia.

 **Big Blake** (11:02 AM): Hope you're having a good time with coach :) :) :)

Clarke smiles at Octavia's relentlessness, holding on to it until Lexa returns with a cup of something sweet-smelling. Clarke once again tries to keep their conversation light, especially after such a heavy revelation. Lexa is in pain, and all of Clarke's instincts want to help soothe her, to try and be there for someone who seems to want nothing but the best for her nephew. 

Even skimming the surface of their lives, it's easy to talk to Lexa. She's interested in Clarke's work, even if she professes not to know much about art, and asks great questions and pays real attention. With her elbow on the arm of the chair and her chin propped in her hand, afternoon sunlight painting her light gold, she looks like Clarke is the only other person in the world while she listens. She only pulls out her phone to check the time, eyes widening when she sees it's been nearly two hours.

"I'm sorry I kept you so long," Lexa says, moving to gather up her now-empty cup. 

"No, you're a great listener," Clarke says. "I don't have anywhere else to be today. Unless you..."

"Me neither," Lexa says. And then looks down at her lap, as though she shouldn't have admitted it to Clarke.

"I'm hungry. You hungry?" Clarke asks, realizing she's going to have be the one to take the initiative if she wants to build an actual friendship. When her father died, her friends were the ones who got her out of the house, who kept her moving forward until she could stand to take a few steps on her own. She knows how easy it is to just stay inside a bubble of grief until it becomes normal. "You're new in town so how about I show you the best burrito place the tourists don't know about."

She's already standing up, car keys swinging from her index finger, and it works like a charm on Lexa, who stands up with her. "Sounds good," she says.

*

Clarke watches in fascination as Lexa neatly devours a super burrito the size of her forearm. Somehow she manages to take the damn thing apart bite by bite without spilling a drop; it's the most impressive food-related exhibit Clarke has seen since Raven built an actual rocketship birthday cake with working engines for the twins.

"I skipped breakfast," Lexa says, noticing that Clarke is watching her.

"You don't need to explain yourself to me," says Clarke. "That was incredible." She's starting to like the way Lexa will dart her eyes away at a compliment, so different from the authoritative woman instructing her players like a battlefield commander.

"You were right, this place is good," Lexa says. She crumples up her napkin and tosses it in her basket, also gathering Clarke's empty plate without being asked. It's still mid-afternoon when they head outside, sunglasses sliding down over their eyes, and Aden isn't due to be picked up for a couple of hours yet, so Clarke tries one more thing.

"Come on," she says, leading Lexa down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace. 

They walk for about fifteen minutes, Clarke pointing out a few shops here and there until they reach their destination, a little hole-in-the-wall gallery with a hand-carved wooden sign hanging over the door and a painting in the window that could be of a sea creature or an abstract of a human face. 

"Is this your...?" Lexa asks.

"No, but I got my start here," Clarke says. She opens the door for Lexa, gesturing for her to go first.

Inside, the gallery is pleasantly temperate, with subtle track lighting highlighting pieces along both walls of the single long room. Someone comes bustling out of the back at the sound of the chime above the door, a small middle-aged woman in trousers and a flowing peasant top. 

"Clarke!" she says, coming forward with her arms outstretched for a hug.

"Hi Dana," Clarke says, stopping a little to hug the woman. She steps aside. "Dana, this is Lexa. She coaches my godkids' soccer team. Lexa, this is Dana. She put up my first ever exhibit out of art school."

Lexa shakes hands with Dana, that same firm up-and-down she first gave Clarke. 

"Let me know if you need anything honey," says Dana. She gives Lexa a very obvious once-over, an even more obvious smirk at Clarke, and returns to the back. 

Clarke pretends she didn't notice Dana's lack of subtlety and starts showing Lexa around the intimate space, examining the paintings that are up now. Lexa asks her what she thinks and is as engaged as ever, paying attention to Clarke's informed critiques and her little asides about art history. 

"Ok, so if you had to buy one painting in this whole gallery, which one," Clarke asks, gesturing to both walls. 

Lexa peers at the nearest price tag. "On a P.E. teacher's salary? None of them," she says with good humor. 

"Come on," Clarke says, nudging her shoulder lightly. "If money was no object. Which one."

Lexa takes her time, turning in a circle, regarding each painting very seriously. Clarke likes how deliberate she is, how seriously she takes the question. Eventually she points to one a little ways down the right wall, a self-portrait of the artist, rumpled and half out of bed. 

"What do you like about it?" Clarke asks.

Lexa tilts her head just so, examining the painting up close. "It makes you want to know more about this moment. The pose, and the..." She struggles for a word.

"Movement," Clarke suggests, because she feels the same about this painting.

"Yes. Movement. It's a painting but she's going somewhere, or coming from somewhere. I don't know. Does that make sense?" Lexa looks at Clarke earnestly, wanting her feedback as the professional artists of the two.

"It makes perfect sense," Clarke says. She bumps Lexa's shoulder with her own. "I would have bought this painting too."

By then it's time for Lexa to go pick up Aden, so they walk back to where they parked outside of the coffee shop. 

"I had a good time," Clarke says.

"Me too," says Lexa, smiling. But then the smile slides from her face. "Clarke, was this a date? To you, I mean."

"It doesn't have to be," Clarke says. "It can just be two friends hanging out. I think it would be nice to be your friend."

The smile returns, slightly relieved, and Clarke doesn't quite know how to feel about that. "Friends. That sounds nice to me too. Thank you."

On impulse, Clarke finally hugs her, just a brief clasp of her arms around Lexa's body, hands rubbing lightly at the center of her back. "Say hi to Aden for me."

"Are you coming to next week's game?" Lexa asks.

Clarke doesn't even hesitate to sacrifice her lazy Saturday morning. "Wouldn't miss it," she says.


	2. Chapter 2

Octavia laughs and laughs at Clarke when she texts that she'll be at the game on Saturday. Clarke knows because Octavia specifically calls her back just to laugh at her. Then she forces Clarke to join a group hang with Raven on her laptop so that Raven can laugh at her too. 

"We're just friends," Clarke says in exasperation while Octavia and Raven act out what they think Clarke and Lexa's non-date went like. "I don't think she's even ready for a relationship. She's super closed off."

"Since when has that ever stopped you from lusting after someone hot," says Raven.

"How do you know what she looks like?" Clarke asks.

"Octavia sent me her picture," Raven says as if it should be obvious. She leans in close to her camera and taps it a few times. "Just because I am too busy to ever leave this godforsaken lab-" She says the last two words so loudly they echo in the space around her. "-does not mean I don't know everything you're doing day and night, Clarke."

"That might be the creepiest thing anyone has ever said to me," Clarke says.

"Eyes everywhere," Raven replies, using two fingers to point to her eyes, then at Clarke. "Although seriously, if you feel like she's not ready, then she's not ready. Doesn't mean you can't make a new friend. You need to get out of the studio more often."

"That's what I told her!" Octavia says, and the two bring their palms up to their cameras for a virtual high five.

"I hate you both," Clarke says, and leaves the chat. 

*

Saturday rolls around - for once a later game, letting Clarke have another precious hour of sleep. She won't admit that she primps a little before the game, but she leaves the house knowing that she looks good. 

A little nip is in the air, fall finally overtaking summer, and she's in a decent pair of jeans and a plain black v-neck. Makeup is simple but on point and hair is freshly washed, soft to the touch. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about touching Lexa's hair.

At the fields, she finds Lexa in her usual shorts and sneakers, but in a black henley instead of a tank top. The buttons are all undone, revealing the dip of her throat in a tantalizing way. Clarke watches her push up her sleeves, revealing well-defined forearms that start tossing balls for players to kick around, and is glad her eyes are hidden behind her sunglasses. She sets up her camp chair and makes small talk with Lincoln, who blessedly does not mention how often she looks over at Lexa. Octavia sits on Lincoln's other side and smirks obnoxiously at her.

Lexa spots Clarke when she looks up from something on her clipboard and raises her hand in a simple wave. Her attention returns almost immediately to her team, but Clarke doesn't mind. She likes how dedicated Lexa is to a recreational under ten soccer team - it might just be community youth soccer, but it means something to the kids, so it means something to Lexa.

At halftime the Nightbloods are already up three to nothing, and Octavia waddles around Lincoln holding her chair to her butt with both hands so she can plop down next to Clarke. "How's it going," she says, that rakish Blake grin working full time.

"Indra is kicking ass," Clarke says, knowing very well what Octavia is getting at and determined not to give it to her.

"Lexa thinks she has what it takes to play travel soccer," Octavia boasts. But then her smile fades a little. "But not Nyko. And I don't want him to feel bad if we let Indra try out for the travel team."

"The travel team is..." Clarke prompts.

"Better than the rec league team," Octavia finishes for her. "And Indra will want to do it, but she won't want to do it without Nyko."

"They couldn't stay attached at the hip forever," Clarke points out. 

Octavia watches as Lincoln hands both twins orange slices, complimenting them on their hard work, brushing grass off of Nyko's uniform. "I kind of hoped they would." 

"They're growing up," Clarke says sympathetically. "They're gonna start becoming their own person."

"I don't want them to grow up. Mostly because I know Indra is going to be like me and I remember how much trouble we caused," Octavia says. She blows her hair out of her eyes in an exasperated huff.

"Your genes, your problem," Clarke says.

"Just promise me if she ever comes to you instead of me, you'll try to keep her from making the mistakes we did."

"Obviously." They bump arms in solidarity just as Indra jogs over, always looking for her mother's approval. 

"Mom did you see my goal?" she asks.

"I saw it, bud. It might be your best goal so far," says Octavia. "But all your goals are awesome. You having fun?"

"Coach Lexa is gonna make me sit for some of this half," Indra says, pouting. 

"Gotta give the other kids a chance to play, you know that, sport," says Octavia. She tucks an errant strand of hair behind Indra's ear. "You're a team. So you all have fun together, okay?"

"Okay," Indra says. She runs, first to Nyko to collect him, then back to Lexa, who is in her signature crouch, showing the kids what to do on her clipboard with exaggerated hand motions. 

"You are totally hoping she scores like three more goals," Clarke says.

"She is clearly the best player out there!" Octavia bursts out, unable to help herself, and then has to calm herself down as the second half starts. 

Indra does go on to score more goals, even though Lexa only puts her in for the last fifteen minutes of the game. Clarke watches Aden as well, knowing how much he's been through and that he's forming a friendship with the twins. On the field he's louder than he was at the first game Clarke saw, shouting for the ball, yelling encouraging things to his teammates. He runs off the field at the whistle and jumps up and down in front of Lexa, who laughs and high fives him before turning him around so he can join the players lining up to shake hands. 

Afterwards it's almost a given that the twins will ask for Aden to come over, at which point Lexa joins Lincoln and Octavia to work out the details of how long and when to pick him up. They all walk to the parking lot together, Lincoln and Octavia in the lead, the kids in a happy scrum in the middle, and Clarke and Lexa bringing up the rear.

"Another victory in the bag, coach. What's your strategy?" Clarke asks, affecting a half-serious reporter voice. 

"It was just a good team effort. One game at a time," Lexa responds in kind, then smiles at Clarke. 

Aden is hopping to go with the twins when he reaches the Blakes' car, but he runs back at the last minute and throws his arms around Lexa's waist. She reciprocates, hands pressing against his back until he lets go of her. Clarke pretends not to watch Lexa staring after Aden with obvious longing, wanting to protect him at all costs.

"Lunch?" she asks after Lexa has stowed her ball bag and shut the trunk, and she's quietly ecstatic that this time Lexa accepts readily, almost as if she hadn't expected anything else.

This time she takes Lexa somewhere a little nicer than the burrito joint, a sandwich shop a few blocks away that does good paninis and wraps. Once again Clarke is astounded at the sheer amount of food Lexa consumes, albeit with impeccable table manners, but this time she hides it better, not wanting to be rude about it.

"How was Aden's last playdate with the twins?" Clarke asks.

"He didn't stop talking about it for two days," Lexa says, smiling fondly at the memory. "They're really good for him. He's been having a little trouble making friends ever since he started a new grade. And one of his close friends from last year moved away during the summer, so."

"Too bad he doesn't go to school with the twins," Clarke says, which she's put together from the way the twins talk about only seeing Aden through soccer.

"I've thought about transferring him to a different school, but I didn't want to change his routine too much after..." Her voice trails off, unable to rattle off the words without swallowing hard. "So I got the job at Saint Rebecca's to be close to him."

"Where did you work before? In Baltimore?" Clarke asks, figuring they're finally friendly enough for her to know more. 

"I was..." Lexa seems embarrassed.

"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Clarke is quick to say, knowing she's treading on sensitive ground. "It's just, if you feel like talking to me about it. I know we haven't known each other long but I'm always up to listen."

"Thanks," Lexa says quietly. After a moment she takes a deep breath and lets it out, sitting up straighter. "So what's the plan for today?"

"Why do I have to come up with the plan?" Clarke asks, mock offended.

"You're the one who keeps claiming she's 'in the know' about all the hottest spots," Lexa points out.

"That's...fair," Clarke is forced to concede. She thinks hard for a moment, then checks her phone to confirm the location. Lexa is making an expectant face when Clarke looks up from her screen. "Want to help me with my grocery shopping?"

*

The farmers market is small but nice, the stalls laid out neatly and spaced far enough to avoid getting choked up with crowds. 

Clarke takes her time, carefully going over produce, putting things into Lexa's hands to get her opinion. She buys them some peaches at one stall, the last good peaches of the season, and they munch on fruit as they walk. Clarke likes the way Lexa licks up stray drops of juice from the corner of her mouth, the flash of her teeth as they bite into the ripe flesh, the plump of her lips around the soft fuzzy skin. 

Lexa picks up a bunch of asparagus, dripping cold water. "I'm trying to get Aden to eat better, but all he wants is mac and cheese," she says. 

"When I was nine I refused to eat any vegetable that wasn't slathered in velveeta," says Clarke.

"That's disgusting and I'm not doing that," says Lexa, screwing up her nose in distaste. 

"You'll come around," Clarke says, affecting a superior air. 

The next stall is selling homemade jewelry, and Clarke holds a few earrings up for Lexa to judge. She shakes her head at all of them until Clarke finds a simple pair of gold hoops. 

"They'd look nice on you too," Clarke says, holding one of them up to Lexa's ear. Her fingers brush Lexa's cheek and she pulls her hand back in apology. 

"I'm not really much for jewelry," Lexa says. She tucks her hair behind her ears, then smooths her hand along her ponytail a few too many times to be anything but fidgety.

Clarke realizes it's true, she's never seen Lexa wear more than a digital wristwatch, but she just assumed it was for soccer. She chooses a small silver pendant hanging on a delicate chain next and holds it up so it lines up with the hollow of Lexa's throat. "This one?" she asks.

"I think it would look nice on you," Lexa says, not quite shy, but not quite the offhand way Octavia or Raven would say it. Not like someone who's only interested in Clarke as a friend. 

They end at a stall that sells little honey sips, five for a dollar, and then they find a shady tree nearby to open up each little ampule and taste the flavored honey inside. A little bit dribs over Lexa's index finger so she lifts it to her mouth, delicately licking it off, and Clarke has to look away before she's caught ogling. 

"It's too cold in the shade," Clarke says after a few more samples of honey. 

"All right, grumpy. Let's go for a walk," Lexa says, standing up and offering a hand so Clarke can pull herself up.

"I'm not grumpy, I'm cold," Clarke says, at which point her mouth drops open because Lexa strips off her henley, pulling it from the hem up and crossing her arms over her head, revealing a tank top underneath. She pulls the shirt right side out again and offers it to Clarke.

"Won't you be cold?" Clarke asks.

Lexa just makes the offering motion again, eyebrows lifting. So Clarke takes the shirt and pulls it on over her v-neck, the fabric still warm from Lexa's body and smelling a bit like her around the collar. Lexa starts walking as soon as Clarke has tugged everything straight again, seeming to know where she wants to go. It's not long before Clarke realizes they're headed back to the cafe, the one Clarke took her last weekend.

"You'll be warmer here," she says when they arrive, holding the door for Clarke.

Clarke smiles her thanks, entering and walking to the back room, where their seats from last time are open. They talk until it's time for Lexa to pick up Aden, and it's not until Clarke is in her car and halfway home that she realizes she's still wearing Lexa's shirt.

*

**Clarke** (8:29 PM): Hi it's Clarke, I got your number from Octavia. Thanks for the shirt. How do I get it back to you?

She stares at the text, deletes it, re-writes it, and stares at it some more before hitting send. It took her two days to ask Octavia for Lexa's number, knowing she'd get egged on again, and another day to work up the nerve to actually text her.

She's aware Lexa doesn't want to date, at least not her. But she also wants to spend more time with her, and has convinced herself she can stay on the friend side of the line by letting Lexa set their boundaries. No pushing, no come ons, no flirting. Just an invitation to a new friend.

The little bubble pops up and Clarke finds herself watching it impatiently.

**Coach Lexa** (8:37 PM): Don't worry about it, you can just bring it to the game.

She leans back in her chair in disappointment, but also acceptance that Lexa probably has her reasons for not wanting to get closer. 

Then the bubble again and Clarke is painfully aware of how her heart is swooping out of her stomach again. 

**Coach Lexa** (8:40 PM): Sorry, didn't mean to assume you would be at the game. If you can't make it then if you're free in the afternoon between now and then.

Clarke thinks about lying. But what would she do? Show up, hand Lexa her shirt, ask her on a date that Lexa already clearly turned down? She plays it cool instead.

**Clarke** (8:42 PM): No, I'll definitely be there. See you then :)

It's a few minutes, but Lexa responds one more time. 

**Coach Lexa** (8:45 PM): Great. Looking forward to it :)

*

Clarke is getting used to waking up early on Saturdays; so early, in fact, that she arrives at the field before most of the players and their parents. When she trudges up to their assigned field for the day, camp chair in one hand, paper bag holding Lexa's shirt in the other, the only people there are Lexa and Aden. 

Lexa stops mid-pour from her equipment bag, the balls bouncing away haphazardly. 

"Hi," Clarke says, walking across the field.

"Hi," says Lexa. She wraps up the mesh and tosses it aside, hands going in her hoodie pockets. No aviators today; it's slightly overcast, and her sunglasses remain clipped to the front of her shirt. Her shorts have been replaced by black warmup pants too, and Clarke misses her long, lean legs. 

"Hi Aden," Clarke says.

He lingers behind Lexa, still slightly shy around her, but returns her greeting in a soft voice. 

"You can go get warm," Lexa says, kicking a few balls at one of the goals. 

Once Aden is gone, they're stuck in silence for a bit. 

"I have your shirt," Clarke says, rustling the bag. "I washed it."

"You didn't have to do that," Lexa says.

"No, it's no problem. I just threw it in with my stuff." Clarke looks down at their feet, from her ankle boots to Lexa's sneakers. "We're cool to hang out after the game today?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I don't want to assume Aden will have another playdate with the twins."

"If he doesn't, bring him with us. He's a cool kid." Clarke feels like this is too forward and fumbles to walk it back a bit. "I mean, if you want. You guys might have something planned for the two of you. I don't want to intrude."

"No, it wouldn't be. That sounds nice." Lexa smiles, and Clarke smiles back and relaxes a little out of the odd tension between them.

More kids arrive then, breaking them apart. Lexa gestures towards the players running towards her, something like an apology on her face.

"I hope you win," Clarke says.

"Well with you watching, I kind of have to now," Lexa says, which is as confusing as it is delightful because Clarke could swear she's flirting.

Clarke sits in her camp chair with her arms folded, turning Lexa's attitude over and over in her head until Octavia pokes her roughly. 

"What the hell?" Clarke says, earning a dirty look from a nearby parent.

"Indra has scored two goals already," Octavia says, gesturing at the field. "Get your head in the game dude."

"Sorry," Clarke says, trying to focus on her godchildren. But her eyes keep drifting towards Lexa, who is her usual professional self pacing up and down the sideline, jotting down notes on her clipboard.

"Did something happen with you two?" Octavia asks. She nudges her chair closer. 

"No, nothing. We just hang out whenever Aden comes over to your place." Clarke's hand brushes against the bag sitting by her chair, Lexa's shirt still folded neatly at the bottom. "I mean last weekend was nice though? We went for a walk and it was cold so she gave me her overshirt?"

"Oh dude, that's some good shit," says Octavia, though with her voice low enough to avoid the wrath of the parents for her language. "Have you held hands yet? Do you fight over who has to hang up the phone first?"

"Shut up," says Clarke, shoving Octavia hard enough to rock her chair off the ground just a smidge. 

"What about her not wanting to date?"

"I don't know," Clarke whines. "I think she's flirting with me but I can't tell, and she clearly has a bunch of stuff in her past she doesn't want to talk about."

"I mean, this might be crazy talk, but you could just ask her? 'Hi Lexa I like you but I'm getting mixed signals so let's clear this up'?" 

Clarke rolls her eyes. "Like it's that easy."

"It _is_ that easy," Octavia insists. "You just do it."

Clarke grumbles some more, but knows that Octavia is right. After the game (an astonishing nine to nothing, and Indra had to be pulled after she scored her fifth goal or else it would have been worse), she hugs the twins and helps Lexa gather up her equipment. She's prepared to spend time with Lexa and Aden together, but as usual the twins ask if he can come over and as usual Lexa agrees. In just a few short weeks, Clarke can see how much more exuberant Aden becomes around the twins, switching off piggyback rides with Nyko as they take turns carrying Indra to the car.

"So," Clarke says, watching Lexa pack up her car once Aden is off with the Blakes. "Indra wasn't very happy with you pulling her out of the game."

Lexa's mouth twists with wry good humor. "I may have gotten an email from the youth director that there have been complaints from parents abut our scorelines."

"Are you kidding me?" Clarke asks. 

Lexa shrugs. "It's community youth soccer. The kids just want to have fun. I understand. Indra needs to be playing up a level, if I'm being honest."

"Yeah. Octavia told me. But she doesn't want to be separated from Nyko."

"Until then, best I can do is try to make sure everyone gets the same amount of playing time. If Indra just happens to score every five minutes, nothing I can do." The words are fair, but Clarke can hear a hint of smugness in her tone.

"Oh my god you love winning," she says accusingly.

"Losing builds character!" Lexa argues. "It's not like we rub it in their faces. We just happen to have the best player in the age bracket. I can't punish her for being too good."

"Okay, coach," Clarke says with a sarcastic little salute.

They settle down again, lapsing into the silence that caught them when Clarke first arrived at the field. She taps her fingers on Lexa's trunk. "I was thinking something low key today? Maybe I could make you lunch at my place?"

"That sounds good," Lexa says, and Clarke can't help the little lurch of excitement in her chest. She does her best to manage her expectations on the drive over but she's still nervous when they arrive at her building. She'd cleaned all last night specifically so she could ask Lexa to come over, and as she opens the door to her apartment, she sweeps her eyes around furtively in case she missed anything. She doesn't want a repeat of the time Raven came over and pulled a horrifyingly musty sock from between her couch cushions.

"This place is nice," Lexa says, also looking around, hands back in her hoodie pockets. She crosses from the open kitchen into the living room, looking at the giant picture window. 

"Yeah, it gets a lot of light during the day. That's what sold me on the place." Clarke starts to move around the kitchen, pulling open her fridge to inspect her grocery situation. "Feeling like anything in particular?"

"Meat, vegetables, carbohydrates. I'm not too picky," Lexa says, wandering back to the kitchen island and sitting down on one of the stools.

"Well veggies and carbs I can do," Clarke says, pulling out a bag of spinach and plopping it on the counter. "Meat..." She pokes her head in the freezer and spots a single sad chicken breast in a ziploc bag, waiting for her to defrost it. "Is not happening."

"I'm not good at grocery shopping either," Lexa says sympathetically.

"I grocery shop!" Clarke insists. "Just...this week was busy. I stayed late at the studio a lot." She surveys the spinach and the half loaf of sourdough still in its bag on the counter. "I may not have planned this out that well."

"Honestly Clarke, I'm fine with anything. Or we could order," Lexa says.

"Oh thank god," Clarke says, immediately putting away the food. She fetches her laptop from the living room coffee table and settles on the stool next to Lexa, opening up a delivery site and clicking around to look at the different options. They bargain a bit over pizza versus Chinese, and Clarke gives in to garlic chicken and sauteed string beans after only cursory resistance.

She puts on some music while they wait, letting spotify do the work of choosing from a randomized playlist, and they sit on opposite ends of the sofa, knees drawn up, facing each other. Lexa unzips her hoodie and drapes it over the couch arm, leaving her in another black tank top that has Clarke wondering just how many she owns.

"How's...you know. Your art," Lexa asks.

Clarke laughs at her and she smiles in return, relaxing a little more. "My art is fine. Just finishing a big commission."

"How big?" Lexa asks.

"It's for some senator who wants a local artist hanging on her wall. You know, vaguely patriotic and unoffending. It helps me keep the studio open so I can do more of the stuff I actually like."

"There's nothing wrong with that," Lexa says. "I get it. I'd take any job to support Aden. We do what we have to in order to survive."

"Aden's really lucky to have you. I don't know if I could take on that kind of responsibility all of a sudden," Clarke says.

Lexa's face drops a little, closing off, but her voice stays strong. "He's family." And that's that.

It's not really the right moment and Lexa is still kind of distant from talking about Aden but Clarke can't hold it in anymore. "Can I ask you something?"

She frowns slightly, but nods.

"I'm kind of - kind of getting mixed signals from you," Clarke says. "I know you don't want to date but it kind of...seems like you do? I'm sorry if I got the wrong vibe. And I totally respect whatever you want to do. I just needed clarification, because I do want to ask you out, but don't want you to be uncomfortable around me. Is that okay?"

Lexa plucks at the fabric of her pants a few times, then rubs at them. "You're not wrong," she says quietly. She looks directly at Clarke, that steady gaze she uses when she's giving out instructions. "I want you to ask me out too. But I'm not sure I can balance that with taking care of Aden right now. I have to stay focused on him. He's just starting to recover and I want his life to feel stable again before I try anything new."

"Yeah. I get that." Clarke falls silent, because what can she really say to that? She tries not to look obviously disappointed; she doesn't want Lexa to feel guilty for choosing Aden. 

Lexa looks guilty anyway. "I like you a lot, Clarke."

Clarke lets her leg shift forward until her toe pokes Lexa's toes. "It's okay, really. Please don't apologize. You have every reason to to make the choices you do. I really respect that about you." She withdraws so she can sit up straight, bringing her legs underneath her and bouncing a little on the cushions. "How about this. We're friends, and that's great because friendship is great. Sound good?"

The guilt dissolves into a lopsided smile. "That sounds good." Lexa offers her hand, and this time the handshake is warm, lingering, her fingers sliding along Clarke's palm as she withdraws. 

"And next time, I'll have actual food for an actual meal," Clarke says, earning a snort from Lexa that makes her feel a little better.


	3. Chapter 3

Clarke's Saturday routine now is: get up, hug the coffee pot, try not to dress too nicely but not like she's not trying at all, drive over to the soccer fields, and cheer her heart out for Indra and Nyko. Afterwards, Aden has a playdate with the twins ("Clarke he's the most well-mannered child I've ever met. It freaks me out," Octavia confesses to her.) and Clarke and Lexa spend a few hours going to lunch and talking.

Sometimes Clarke cooks, and if there's any upside to this new friendship, it's that she suddenly has a reason to regularly get groceries. Sometimes they catch a movie. Clarke shows her to all her favorite little art galleries, hidden around the greater D.C. area.

She makes sure to never touch Lexa first; they haven't hugged since their first art gallery visit. She stays a respectful distance away, doesn't flirt, doesn't let herself interpret anything as flirting.

"I _hate_ it," she moans to Raven who has managed to wrangle a rare early night off even though her project is nearing its most hectic phase.

"Yeah but there's like nothing you can do about it except stop being her friend," Raven says. She pops the cork on the bottle of wine she brought over. "And that's a really bad look, breaking up with a single mom - aunt? Single aunt?"

"We are not breaking up because we're not together!" Clarke says, nevertheless taking a glass of wine from Raven.

"Breaking off a friendship," Raven corrects. "With a woman who gave up her whole admittedly mysterious life to raise her nephew by herself after his parents were tragically killed in a car crash. Really bad look."

"I don't want to break off our friendship," Clarke says. "But I hate not being able to go any further."

"Sucks," Raven says agreeably.

"That's it? Sucks?"

Raven takes a huge pull of her wine. "Yeah. It sucks. I don't have any other advice for you. You either stay her friend and just hope one day she's ready or like put away that part of yourself that wants to get with her. Or stop being friends with her."

"None of those are good options," Clarke says, head dropping into her hands.

"I never said there were good options. Just options. Keep drinking, you sound like you need it."

"Raven, it's Tuesday," Clarke says.

"Fuck you I haven't had a night off in four months," Raven snipes back. "I finally got one of the grad students trained up to my exacting specifications so I can trust her to handle shit if I'm not there so I am going to drink this wine, and I am going to listen to your problems, and then I am going to drag myself into work tomorrow because in two months my team is supposed to launch a probe that will travel over six hundred million miles to a do a flyby of some fucking moons in orbit around Jupiter before leaving our solar system on an endless cosmic journey."

Clarke pauses. "Okay, well when you compare our problems like that."

"Thank you," Raven says. "Now tell me more about how hot she is."

*

There's only ten games in the season, and as the weekends pass Clarke starts to get anxious. She and Lexa have two games left and she doesn't want to stop hanging out. She wants to ask Lexa to do something outside of their weekend hang, but she doesn't want to overstep her bounds, so she keeps it to Saturdays and some texting in between and feels herself slowly sinking into a lowkey frustrated sadness from Sunday through Friday.

It's properly chilly this late in the season, and Clarke layers carefully to go to the game, as well as packing a thermos of coffee. She used to just bring her travel mug until she started sharing with Lexa, and now she brings a thermos with enough for both of them, plus Octavia.

She arrives early, even though she knows that it's edging right up against that friendship barrier she's not supposed to cross. But she likes seeing Lexa before anyone else, talking quietly while Aden either runs around or leans quietly into Lexa's side.

"Is this new?" Lexa asks, tasting the cup that Clarke pours for her.

"You said you liked that darker roast at the farmers market," Clarke says, sipping absentmindedly from the screw-top cup. "Hey Aden. Nyko told me you guys went skateboarding last weekend."

"It was awesome," Aden says, no longer shy around her after nearly two months of chatting at his games. "Even though we couldn't go beyond the end of the block."

"That's because Mrs. Blake is a good mom who was making sure you didn't roll into traffic," Lexa says, squeezing his shoulder.

"What are you doing today?" Clarke asks.

"Pottery class!" Aden says, eyes shiny with excitement. "We get to make anything we want and then decorate it."

"Sounds like a solid afternoon," Clarke says approvingly.

"What are you guys doing on your date?" Aden asks.

Clarke's throat frogs as her coffee sticks in a lump. "Uh."

"I don't know," Lexa says smoothly while Clarke makes painful swallowing sounds. "But if we go somewhere good for lunch I'll save you dessert."

Aden pumps his arm and then pulls away as he sees some of the other players arriving. He's made friends with them too, encouraged to open up by the twins, and he chatters happily with his teammates as they pass a ball around.

"Date?" Clarke asks.

Lexa's cheeks are pink, although that could be the crisp fall air. "Sorry. He knows we hang out while he's with the twins and he heard me call it a playdate, so he's calling what we do a playdate too. Or sometimes just..."

"Date," Clarke finishes, finally understanding.

"Yeah." Lexa rocks onto her toes a bit. "I was thinking I could make lunch today? At my place?"

Clarke does her best not to look weirdly overexcited about the invitation. They haven't been to Lexa's place so far. "Yeah. Sure. You can finally prove you're a better cook than me."

"I never said I was a better cook," Lexa argues.

"It was heavily implied."

Lexa narrows her eyes, a sure sign she wants to keep arguing, but by then the rest of the team has arrived, including the twins, who swarm Clarke for their usual hug. "Good luck today guys," she tells them, and returns to her side of the field, smirking at Lexa once she's in her chair, knowing how much Lexa hates not getting in the last word.

"Where's my coffee," Octavia says, throwing down her chair and plopping down next to Clarke. On her other side, Lincoln sets out his chair at a much more sedate pace.

Clarke already has a little tin camping cup ready and she hands it over.

"We're having the end of season party at our house," Octavia says. "Next weekend after the game. Whole team's coming with their parents and Lexa will be there."

"You need me to bring anything?" Clarke asks.

"Booze."

"No booze," Lincoln says calmly, watching the game.

Octavia makes eye contact with Clarke and mouths _booze_. "In that case," she continues in a normal voice. "Just bring yourself."

Sixty minutes later Clarke is feeling a little wired from all the coffee and Indra has managed to score three goals despite being pushed back to defense by Lexa. The team wins six to one, one of their rare goals allowed, and Clarke already knows Nyko will be disappointed to have let one in.

Nyko takes a few steps towards Lincoln as soon as the whistle blows, but Lexa beckons him over into the team huddle. She crouches down, disappearing momentarily behind the fence of kids, and when she stands up Nyko goes into the handshake line looking considerably more chipper.

"Last weekend," Octavia says, leaning in like she's sharing a secret, "Aden got the twins to clear the table after lunch. _Without being asked._ " She makes a conspiratorial face.

Clarke's eyes widen. "Wow. What a monster."

"Oh shut up. And see you next weekend." Octavia is already hugging Indra and Nyko with both arms so Clarke is left to go over to Lexa, by now automatically gathering balls on the way so that Lexa can bundle them into her mesh bag. She kicks one with her toe, sending it badly off course so that it ends up farther away from Lexa than it started.

"Sorry," she calls out, chasing it down.

"Clarke," Lexa says, dropping her bag and walking over to her with a ball in her hands. She sets the ball down at her feet. "Like this." She demonstrates, planting her left foot by the ball, and using her right foot to push it gently towards the ball bag. "Use the side of your foot, not the toe. You try." She rolls the second ball into position and backs up a few steps.

"Lot of pressure to perform here, coach," Clarke says, trying to line up with the ball the way Lexa did. She twists her foot and swings, presenting the inside of her foot, and the ball more or less follows Lexa's.

"Nice," Lexa says. "Maybe I should play you in the next game."

"Everyone's so funny today," Clarke mutters, but continues kicking over balls the way Lexa showed her.

It's a testament to how much Lexa has relaxed over the past couple of months that she lets Aden go off with the Blakes without walking him to the parking lot, just giving him a parting hug and reminding him to call if he needs anything. She and Clarke walk around the field instead, doing a last check for equipment and picking up a few scraps of litter.

Clarke follows Lexa in her car back to her house, a small but nice single story out in south Arlington with a little porch and neatly-trimmed bushes in the front yard. Lexa leaves the ball bag on the porch as she lets herself and Clarke in, then toes her shoes off by the front door.

The interior is clean and bright, with only a few items out of place to indicate that someone lives here. A stack of schoolbooks sits on the kitchen table and Clarke can see a small backyard through the large window above the sink. The refrigerator has a dry-erase calendar on it, and Clarke can see each Saturday carefully labeled with a time, field number, and referee name.

She sits at the counter and folds her hands loosely. "So what's on the menu?"

"Sandwiches," Lexa says.

Clarke blinks. "Sandwiches? After all the jokes about my cooking you're gonna take the easy way out with sandwiches?"

"You set bacon on fire, Clarke," Lexa points out, pulling ingredients from her fridge.

"Bacon is highly flammable!"

"I got that nice prosciutto you like," Lexa says, waggling the package at her.

"Fine," Clarke says, still not wiping the grumble from her face.

Lexa sets out some kind of fancy multigrain bread and a little army of jars filled with different spreads, plus tomatoes, sliced avocados, and a small tupperware of caramelized onions. There's the prosciutto Clarke mentioned once about a month ago and a few different kinds of sliced cheeses, and a larger tupperware with potato salad. "Whatever you want," she says, motioning to the ingredients.

In the end Clarke assembles possibly the best sandwich she's ever eaten in her life, which she can only pretend isn't delicious for one bite before giving in and accepting Lexa's laughter at her expense.

"Aden got tired of peanut butter and jelly pretty quickly," Lexa explains. "I had to learn a few tricks."

"What did you do for food before Aden?" Clarke asks.

"I didn't really need to cook that much, with my work. I was away from home a lot," Lexa says in that light, dismissive tone Clarke has become used to hearing.

"Travel anywhere interesting?" Clarke asks, and she means it innocently, just a follow-up question to keep the conversation moving, but Lexa suddenly lets her sandwich fall to her plate.

"No. Nowhere interesting," she says, looking down at her food.

But Clarke is also used to changing the subject when Lexa gets like this, and she doesn't acknowledge the quiet little gap between them. It frustrates her that Lexa won't open up, even after they've spent so much time together. It feels like a reflection on her trustworthiness, which she knows is extremely self-centered of her, which is why she pushes it down every time. But not fast enough this time, apparently.

"I'm sorry," Lexa says. "You're a really good friend and I'm..."

"You're a great friend," Clarke says. "You have your reasons for not talking about your life before Aden. It's not my place to force you to talk about it."

"No, but you deserve to know things about me," Lexa says. "You tell me about yourself all the time. You told me about your father and quitting pre-med and how hard it was to get your start as an artist." She's gripping the edge of the countertop, breathing out slowly through her mouth.

Clarke is a little alarmed at "Lexa-"

"I was overseas when my sister died," Lexa says. "I was in Afghanistan."

Clarke was not expecting that answer at all, and yet it fits. "Oh."

"We were closer when I was a kid but we drifted apart as we grew up and I hadn't spoken to her in a while. We were kind of on bad terms, really. Anya didn't approve of me joining the army and I...just didn't care about her opinion." Lexa presses the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, as though squashing the tears that are forming.

"I was off base when she died. They weren't able to reach me for three days, and I wasn't able to arrange emergency leave for another two. So for five days, Aden stayed in a group home because he didn't have any other family. Our mom died before Aden was born and Anya's dad left before I was even in the picture. His parents were dead and he was completely alone. It took him a week before he would speak to me." Her voice gets progressively quieter and smaller until she's practically talking to herself.

"But look at him now," Clarke says softly. "He's happy, Lexa. He has friends. He clearly adores you."

"I wasn't there for him when he needed me," Lexa snaps. "I was too wrapped up in my own career. I only knew what he looked like because Anya sent me his picture before I was deployed, and that was two years ago. He didn't even remember me when I came to get him."

"You came to get him, though," Clarke says. She reaches across the countertop to touch the back of Lexa's hand. "That's the important thing."

Just like that Lexa's temper is spent. "I'm sorry," she says again, eyes down, as though embarrassed by her outburst.

"Don't be. I'm glad you felt like you could tell me," says Clarke. She squeezes Lexa's wrist. "I'm gonna hug you now, okay?"

Lexa nods morosely, but turns in her chair, angling her body to receive the hug and putting her arms around Clarke's shoulders. Clarke rests her head on Lexa's shoulder for a moment, letting herself enjoy the closeness and warmth of her. She rubs Lexa's back once or twice before pulling away. "Better?"

Lexa is still close, close enough that Clarke can only focus on her eyes. "Yes," she murmurs.

Clarke swallows, suddenly aware of how hard she's breathing, how intensely drawn forward she is. Her voice is barely more than a whisper. "Good."

Lexa blinks and pulls back all the way, inhaling sharply. "Um. There's strawberries, if you wanted dessert."

Clarke doesn't mention that both their plates are still half full. "Yeah. That sounds good." Her hand clenches slightly, remembering how it felt to touch Lexa again. But it's not the right time, not even close. Lexa avoids eye contact until it's time for Clarke to leave.

*

Clarke isn't expecting to hear from Lexa again until the next game, but on Sunday she wakes up to a text.

**Coach Lexa** (8:01 AM): Thanks for being a good listener.

Clarke holds her phone in both hands, reading and re-reading the text, happiness making her heart press up against her sternum.

**Clarke** (8:02 AM): Any time

She waits to see if there's a response, and is just about to flop back into her pillows to doze a little bit when a new bubble pops up.

**Coach Lexa** (8:07 AM): Can I take you to dinner as a thank you?

Clarke hesitates, going over a dozen possible responses. Slowly, she types out a reply, not wanting to spook this newer, more open Lexa.

**Clarke** (8:09 AM): Better than sandwiches?

**Coach Lexa** (8:09 AM): Much better.

**Clarke** (8:10 AM): I'm free Wednesday night

**Coach Lexa** (8:11 AM): Pick you up at six thirty? If that's too early seven?

**Clarke** (8:11 AM): 630 is perfect. See you then

**Coach Lexa** (8:11 AM): See you.

She waits a little longer, but no more texts are forthcoming. She taps back to her contacts and immediately types out a message in the long-running group chat she uses with Octavia and Raven.

**Clarke** (8:15 AM): I think Lexa just asked me out???

**Big Blake** (8:17 AM): What?

**Reyes** (8:18 AM): I WAS SLEPING IN U JRKS OMG I HAVN't slept more than for hours n daaaaaaayyyyys

**Clarke** (8:18 AM): Omg sorry Raven go back to sleep

**Reyes** (8:19 AM): I'm up now whatever tell us about this date

**Clarke** (8:20 AM): She asked me to dinner on Wednesday and wants to pick me up? She didn't like ask me to meet here there

**Big Blake** (8:21 AM): That's totally a date

**Reyes** (8:21 AM): That's a fucking date

**Clarke** (8:22 AM): Fuck but what if it's not a date

**Reyes** (8:22 AM): ARE YOU FUCKIN KIDDING ME ITS A DATE

**Big Blake** (8:22 AM): You haven't been on a date in a long time this is exciting

**Clarke** (8:23 AM): PLEASE DON'T REMIND ME

*

Clarke does her best not to pester Lexa before Wednesday, but on the morning of their almost-certainly-a-date, she can't resist sending something.

**Clarke** (9:30 AM): Looking forward to tonight

When Lexa doesn't respond right away it takes her a bit to remember that she's a teacher, and likely restrained by her schedule. Lexa doesn't just handle gym at Saint Rebecca's; she's also the fill-in English teacher for all the grades and sometimes has more paperwork than one human being should reasonably be expected to handle.

Clarke focuses on her painting instead, enjoying the meticulous little detail work that has her dialing in on a few square inches of her canvas for the next hour until her phone beeps.

**Coach Lexa** (10:36 AM): Me too.

Clarke wipes her hands on a rag and works out a few cricks on her neck before walking over to the desk where she's left her phone.

**Clarke** (10:39 AM): Any particular dress code?

**Coach Lexa** (10:40 AM): Jeans are fine if you want. Not formal.

**Clarke** (10:40 AM): Well what are you wearing?

She sends it without thinking about how it might be received, and her eyes widen as she realizes what it could look like.

**Coach Lexa** (10:42 AM): At the moment, my warmups and a t-shirt. Tonight, probably something nicer.

Clarke nearly laughs in relief.

**Clarke ******(10:43 AM): Fine, be mysterious

She puts her phone down, eager to finish her work for the day. It's definitely a date. 

*

She hasn't gone on a date in such a long time, in fact, that Raven is willing to enter a group hang and watch from her laptop camera as she tries on outfits.

"I feel like such a stalker," Raven says, slurping ramen from a styrofoam bowl.

A voice comes from out of range of Raven's camera. "Dr. Reyes-"

"Go away, I'm watching my friend get dressed," she says, making shooing motions with the hand that isn't stuffing noodles into her mouth.

"Raven can you not slurp right next to the mic?" says Octavia, wincing.

Clarke comes out of her closet in time to interrupt the fledgling argument. She holds her arms away from her body and turns in a circle. "What do you think?"

"Very nice," says Octavia.

"Boring," says Raven.

Clarke looks down at her simple fitted black dress, tracing its curved neckline and smoothing a hand down the skirt to where it ends a few inches above her knee. "It's classic, not boring."

"You hang out with grad students all day, you wouldn't know nice if it gave you a lap dance," says Octavia.

Raven shoves her face closer to the camera. "You're damn right I'm stuck here with grad students all day, so go back in your closet and put on a sluttier dress so I can ogle you, Griffin."

"Don't listen to her," Octavia says. "You look great. Hair? Makeup?"

"I'm going easy on both. I don't want to-"

"Look like you want to get laid?" Raven interrupts. "Just abandon all pretense and take this girl to bed."

"How long have you been awake?" Clarke asks.

"Oh my god, you'd think they're asking us to rescue someone from Mars. The other project managers are losing their minds."

"Not you though," says Octavia.

"The moment this probe leaves Earth, I'm driving to your house to punch you," Raven says, and closes out her chat window.

"You're gonna be fine, Clarke," Octavia says. "She obviously likes you. Just take it easy."

Which is easier said than done, as Clarke finishes the last of her primping with ten minutes to spare and spends that time fidgeting on her sofa, absentmindedly clicking through TV channels. Lexa texts that she's in front of Clarke's building and she hastily turns off the TV and throws the remote onto the couch as she looks in the mirror above her mail stand for a last-minute check.

Hair loose, with just a little curl at the bottom. Makeup light, nothing in her teeth. She slips on a simple pair of heels and a black trench coat, grabs her purse, and hurries downstairs.

Lexa is waiting at the front door for her and Clarke slows down as she crosses into the cool evening air. Her hair is down for the first time since Clarke has met her, pulled softly over one shoulder. It's wavier than Clarke realized, now that she can see it loose, and Lexa's green sweater sets off the lighter browns in her hair in lovely ways.

It's also the first time Clarke has seen her out of shorts or warmups, and her tuxedo-stripe leggings are doing great things for her legs. With Lexa in ankle boots and Clarke in heels, they're of a height, and Clarke enjoys not being shorter for once.

"Hi," Lexa says. "You look nice."

Clarke tries not to glow under the compliment. "So do you."

Lexa walks her to her car, parked a little ways down the block, and opens the passenger door for her before getting in herself.

"Where are we going?" Clarke asks, watching Lexa drive.

"You said you wanted to try that new sushi place downtown," Lexa says. She ventures a quick smile before returning her eyes to the road.

"I did?" Clarke asks, trying to remember when they'd spoken about it.

"A few weeks ago," Lexa says casually.

Clarke remembers now, how they'd been walking along, discussing whether it was better for Indra to move up to a more difficult team or stay with Nyko, when Clarke had spotted what used to be a froyo shop she liked, now a sushi restaurant. She'd said maybe two sentences about wanting to visit when she had the time.

Lexa finds parking not too far from the restaurant since it's so early on a weeknight and is already rounding the car to open Clarke's door for her when Clarke does it herself.

"I don't mean to - I mean, it's just habit. I'll stop," she says. Clarke knows her well enough now to tell that it's not the temperature putting a blush in her cheeks.

"It's sweet. Thank you," Clarke says, letting her hand brush against Lexa's.

They get seated in a corner near the back, halfway behind a partial wall, allowing them a bit of privacy.

"You can get a drink if you want," Lexa says, watching Clarke scan the menu. "I'm not drinking tonight."

But Clarke wants to stay clear for every second of this, and sticks to food. Outside the sun has already been blocked by taller buildings, so that they're sitting in the restaurant's dim atmospheric lighting with a solitary flickering candle on the table. Clarke rests her hand in her chin and tries to figure out how forward she can be here.

"I haven't had sushi in three years. Maybe four," Lexa says, looking around the restaurant. Her eyes finally land on Clarke. "No sushi rations in Afghanistan."

The words are light, but Clarke knows how difficult it would have been for Lexa to say that even a few days ago. "How long were you there?"

"Altogether?" Lexa does some mental calculations. "Two and a half years between my first deployment and my second. Eighteen months the first time, and I was a year in when I came back."

Clarke wants to ask so many more questions, but first she needs to make sure Lexa is really willing to answer. She won't ruin this tiny bit of progress they've made. "Are you okay to talk about this? You can tell me to change the topic."

"No, I meant what I said. I want to be as good a friend to you as you've been to me." Lexa does that thing again where she grips the edge of the table and exhales slowly. "It's good to talk about it. Ask me anything."

"Why did you join the army?" Clarke asks.

"My father was in the service. It's kind of a family tradition. He died when I was a kid but I was old enough to catch the bug from him."

"I'm sorry about your dad," Clarke says. She realizes with a pang how she'd gone on in front of Lexa how much it hurt when her own father died, and Lexa hadn't said a thing about either of her dead parents, just been open and sympathetic.

"It's okay. At least he was home. My mom was always afraid we'd get notified that he died while he was deployed." Lexa can see the question on Clarke's face and answers without prompting. "Heart attack in his sleep. Nothing anyone could have done. I'm glad he at least went peacefully."

And Clarke perhaps understands why Lexa wouldn't want to compare dead parents; Jake had died in a lab accident when faulty wiring in an industrial 3D printer sparked a fire. By all accounts he'd been trapped alone in a room, aware of his impending death for some time until he passed out from smoke inhalation. Clarke had had nightmares about fire for months afterwards.

"So you were in Afghanistan for over two years. What was it like?"

Lexa contemplates that one for a while. "Harsh," she says. "But beautiful sometimes. Dangerous. Rewarding. Lonely. All I had was my company."

"You sound like you miss it a little bit," Clarke says, keeping it observational, no judgment.

"I was career military," Lexa says. Her eyes go a bit distant. "I wanted to outrank my father someday. When he died, he was a major."

"What were you?"

"Captain." She gives Clarke a tight smile. "Captain Forrester. One rank below my dad." She blinks, and the tinge of melancholy dissipates. "But I have Aden now and I can't imagine life without him."

"Would you ever go back?" Clarke asks cautiously. "Is that possible?"

"No," Lexa says flatly. "I made sure of that."

"Oh."

Lexa relents slightly, perhaps regretting being so short when she already told Clarke she could ask. "I wanted to make sure I wouldn't be tempted to leave. I didn't give myself an out. So no, I won't be returning to the army. I'm done."

Clarke waits for Lexa to regain a little more composure, then slides her hand across the small table, touching the back of Lexa's hand with her fingertips. "For what it's worth, I think that's really honorable of you. To just leave everything like that, no questions asked."

Lexa's hand is absolutely still under hers. "Clarke," she says, suddenly looking vulnerable, shadows playing lightly across her face in the candlelight. "Is this a date?"

"You tell me," Clarke says, keeping her hand still too, waiting on Lexa just as she's waited for most of the season.

Lexa's hand turns, palm up, and clasps Clarke's hand. "Yes. If you want it to be."

"Are you sure you can do this? I want you to be sure," Clarke says, drawing little patterns across Lexa's palm.

Lexa's eyes are firm on hers, open and honest and expressive. "I'm sure."

"Then this is a date," says Clarke.

Lexa turns her hand just enough that they can interlace their fingers, and they sit in silence, hands slowly touching until their food comes.

*

Clarke shivers slightly as they leave the restaurant. The temperature has dropped considerably since sundown and her thin trench isn't quite enough to compensate for the weather. Lexa moves towards her, as if she wants to put her arm around Clarke, but stops short.

"Do you want to..." Clarke's voice trails off, not knowing what she really wants to ask. They can't get a drink since Lexa has to drive, but she doesn't want the evening to be over, even if they both have work in the morning.

"I have to relieve the babysitter," Lexa says ruefully.

"Right. Of course," Clarke says.

Lexa drives her home with the radio on in the background and all Clarke wants to do is cover Lexa's hand on the gearshift with her own. Now that touch is on the table, she wants to make up for every single moment in the past two months that she stopped herself or pulled back or convinced herself that Lexa didn't feel the same way. But it all still feels incredibly fragile, raw in its newness.

Lexa parks on her street and they both get out so Lexa can walk Clarke to her door. They stop on the stoop, hovering in front of each other.

"I had a great time," Clarke says.

Lexa's smile is small but bright. "Me too."

Still their bodies teeter towards each other without quite closing the gap, until Clarke just lets herself fall that final inch. She tilts her head a little and presses her lips to Lexa's, light and easy.

Lexa's eyes are still closed when Clarke pulls away, as though she's sunk into the moment and is refusing to leave it. She licks her lips - Clarke is caught by the little hint of pink that peeks out - and looks at Clarke like she would rather go upstairs instead of back to her car. But she pulls back, putting up that wall Clarke has come to know so well. "I'll see you Saturday?" she asks.

"Yes. You'll text me when you get home?"

"Yes."

"Good night," Clarke says. Lexa waits until she's actually inside, and then gives her a little wave before leaving.

Clarke floats into her apartment, almost giddy thinking about how she got from that first emergency soccer game to tonight. She pulls out her phone to text Octavia and Raven but thinks better of it. She wants to stay in this moment a while longer too, something for just her and Lexa to savor together.

Coach Lexa (9:52): I'm home. Sleep well.

Clarke wants to text Lexa all night, like they're in high school again, but limits herself to a sedate _good night_ in return and then gets ready for bed, humming idly to herself the entire time.


	4. Chapter 4

Octavia texts her the day before the last game of the season asking her to stop and grab some bags of ice and margarita mix for the twenty-odd parents who will be in attendance. Clarke knows "some bags" means "more than you think you need" based on past Blake parties. After growing up with nothing, Octavia has a tendency to be overgenerous in her social gatherings now, sending people home with enormous tupperwares crammed with food and their belts undone a few notches.

"You're gonna need this," Clarke says, pouring Lexa a large cup of coffee before the game. "Octavia doesn't know how to keep it low key."

"Octavia being overly enthusiastic about something? Really?" Lexa says. 

"Someone's sassier than usual," Clarke says, enjoying how nice it feels to tease Lexa now that they've acknowledged their attraction. The undercurrent of want running between them makes everything spark pleasantly, and Clarke edges up to Lexa so that there's just a few inches between them. They watch each other over the rims of their cups and smile into their drinks. 

As usual, Indra scores a demoralizing number of goals and the season ends with the Nightbloods winning eight to nothing. Clarke can see the other coach grimacing a little as he shakes Lexa's hand, but after the kids start dispersing, Lexa bounds over to Clarke clearly in a jubilant mood. 

"I'll see you at the Blakes'?" she asks, and they're sparking again, something more implied in the way Lexa asks, the way she looks at Clarke like it's just the two of them.

"Yeah," Clarke says, grinning at her. 

She grabs Octavia's list of items at the liquor store and throws in a bottle of tequila for good measure, knowing that Octavia has a heavy pour. The Blake residence is hopping by the time Clarke pulls up, leaving her car halfway down the block thanks to the parents who have already parked outside. She can hear music drifting from the backyard and lots high-pitched shrieking from kids having a good time.

Clarke cuts around the side of the house, going through the gate directly into the backyard, and finds a bustling scene. Lincoln is at the grill turning out burgers and barbecue chicken; a couple of long tables have been set up on the patio, completely crammed with food; the firepit in the center is blazing and surrounded by happy adults holding plastic cups. 

Clarke hefts her bags and trundles into the kitchen, where there's more food and Octavia is reigning supreme over the blender. 

"Clarke!" she says, pouring a hefty batch of margarita into a pitcher. There are three more empty pitchers lined up on the counter. "Fantastic timing."

"As ordered," Clarke says, holding up her supplies and depositing at Octavia's elbow.

"Lexa's somewhere out there," Octavia says, already reaching for the first ice bag and tossing it into the sink so she can break it up with a pick.

"I could be here to talk to you," Clarke says.

"Yes, absolutely. Here's your drink, and Lexa's drink," Octavia says, pouring two tall plastic cups and pushing them over.

Clarke bites down on the impulse to flip Octavia double birds and grabs the drinks instead, returning to the backyard to find Lexa. She finds her at the edge of the patio, talking to some of the parents about coach licensing. 

"Hi," Clarke says, handing her a cup.

"Hi," Lexa says, her smile for Clarke and Clarke alone. "Would you excuse us?" she says to the parents, already moving away so that she and Clarke can talk in private. Then she takes a sip of her drink and immediately coughs, spraying margarita to the side. 

"I know," Clarke says sympathetically, rubbing Lexa's back. "Octavia makes them strong."

"Jesus," Lexa says. She straightens up and tries to breathe in a regular pattern again. "I can't have more than one of these. I'm driving later."

"Probably a good idea," Clarke says. 

"Have you eaten yet? Can I get you a burger or something?" Lexa asks. 

Clarke can't explain why she's so touched; it's such a basic gesture, but Lexa is making it with that offhanded thoughtfulness of hers, and she drinks from her cup to give herself a moment. "Yeah," she says. "A burger would be great. Cheese, please."

While Lexa is gone, Clarke watches the kids swarm the swingset Octavia and Lincoln put up years ago for the twins. Indra is on top of the attached slide, brandishing a plastic bat and yelling some sort of war cry while Nyko and Aden climb up after her. Indra slides down gracefully; Clarke used to fret over her as a toddler until she realized Indra was probably more coordinated than most of the adults in her life. Then Nyko and Aden reach the top at the same time and Clarke can see the disaster unfolding in slow motion. 

Their bodies collide awkwardly, Aden teeters - she's so far away, unable to do anything as Aden goes toppling off sideways, flailing. He lands with a thump, and then his voice goes up in a thin shriek of pain.

Clarke has barely put down her cup before Lexa is sprinting to him, skidding slightly on the grass and dropping to her knees next to him. "Aden?" she asks, automatically checking him over with her hands. He bursts into tears, cradling his arm to his body.

Everything in the yard has halted, the kids milling awkwardly, parents coming over to see if they can help. Clarke is there first, kneeling next to Lexa with her phone out ready to dial 911.

"Aden, you're going to be okay," Lexa says. "Where does it hurt?"

Clarke doesn't know how she's staying so calm. 

Aden keeps crying, curling his body into Lexa's.

"Aden, is it just your arm?" Lexa asks, voice low and soothing. She strokes some of the hair off of his face.

Aden manages a nod. 

"Okay." Lexa works her arms under Aden's body and lifts him easily. Aden tucks his head into her shoulder, still snuffling. Nyko hovers nearby, looking ready to cry himself. 

"Lexa-" Octavia says, having vaulted out of the kitchen the moment she heard Aden scream. 

"It's okay," Lexa reassures her. She looks at Nyko, who is pale and rooted to the spot, Indra right behind him. "He'll be okay, Nyko." 

"Guys, let coach get to her car," says Lincoln, and the kids part quickly.

Some of the other parents are offering to call for an ambulance, but Lexa shakes her head. "It'll be faster if I take him to the hospital. Thank you, though." She's still eerily calm, making her way out of the backyard.

"I'll go with you," Clarke says. She gives Octavia a quick side hug as she follows Lexa. "I'll text you from the hospital."

Clarke slides into the back seat of Lexa's car. "Here," she says, patting her lap so Lexa can let Aden lie down with his head on Clarke's legs. Lexa lays him out gently, careful not to jostle his arm. Clarke wants to touch Lexa's arm, reassure her, but the woman is in some kind of mission mode. She buckles herself into the driver's seat and starts following a route on her phone to the nearest hospital. Clarke can see how hard her hands are clenching the steering wheel while she drives. 

"Rough day, huh buddy," Clarke says, gently stroking Aden's hair.

A few tears are still streaking down his cheeks, but he nods.

"At least it happened after the season was over. The team would've really missed you."

Aden sniffs. "Indra is way better than me."

"There's six of you out there. Indra can't play by herself," Clarke reminds him. She strokes his uninjured arm, trying to keep him as still as possible. "How many times did you pass to Indra before she scored?"

It seems to take Aden's mind off the pain as he thinks. "A couple of times."

"A lot of times," Clarke corrects him. "You had so many helping passes."

"Assists," Lexa says from the front.

"Assists," Clarke repeats. "See, there's a name for it and everything. You were so great this season, and you just got better every game."

She keeps talking to him, trying to keep him occupied until they get to the hospital. At the very least he stops crying, and a few times manages a tired, wan smile when Clarke deliberately forgets soccer terms and Lexa supplies the correct ones.

Lexa pulls up to the emergency entrance and puts the car in park, opening the back door to slowly slide Aden into her arms again. 

"Go ahead," Clarke says. "I'll park the car."

Lexa nods at her and carries Aden through the sliding doors, murmuring something comforting to him.

Clarke manages to find a spot in the hospital lot and just sits in silence after turning off the engine, trying to get herself together. After a couple of breaths she feels ready and pushes herself out of the car, determined to be there for Lexa and Aden.

*

They've been waiting for nearly an hour and Lexa is getting agitated bordering on frantic. All the calmness of the drive over is dissolving as Aden quietly whimpers to himself, though she's doing her best not to let it show for Aden's sake. Already the nurse at the admit desk has had to tell her twice that there's a wait, nothing to be done. Clarke has sent all the reassuring texts to Octavia that she can, and is now doing her best not to jiggle her foot. What she really wants is to grab Lexa's hand and hold her until she feels better.

"I'm gonna get some water," Clarke says quietly, unable to watch Lexa fret any longer.

She finds a quiet corner and pulls out her phone, hitting her mother's number. The conversation is hushed and not too long as Clarke begs off giving too many details in favor of getting back to Lexa, but she knows a mother-daughter dinner is in her near future. She returns to the waiting room in time to see the admit nurse receive a phone call, then make a surprised face. The nurse stands up, pushing aside the glass divider in front of her desk, and calls out "Forrester?"

Lexa shoots to her feet. "Yes, that's us."

"You're next," says the nurse, now looking at Lexa with something like curiosity.

Lexa doesn't ask questions, just gathers Aden once again and deposits him softly in a wheelchair, then pushes him through the security doors. They're guided to an open bed and then a curtain is drawn around them while they wait for the doctor. 

"How you holding up, buddy?" Lexa asks, her hand on Aden's shoulder. 

His face is still pale, mouth turned down in a grimace, but his chin comes up and the motion is just so astoundingly _Lexa_ that Clarke can't believe Lexa has been taking care of Aden for less than a year. Perhaps it's a family trait.

"You're being really brave, but when the doctor comes, I want you tell them about anything that hurts, even if you think it's really small or unimportant, okay?" Lexa squeezes the hand of his uninjured arm. 

"Okay," Aden says. 

"Good." Lexa continues to hold his hand. She hasn't been physically disconnected from him during their entire wait and Clarke can see just how nervous she really is in the way she fusses with Aden's hair, keeps one hand on his shoulder or his knee, constantly checks him over with her eyes for other injuries.

It's not long before a doctor finds them and works up Aden's chart, giving him a low dose of painkillers and immobilizing his arm with a splint before sending them upstairs for x-rays. 

"I'll be right outside, okay?" Lexa says, pointing to a room with a window so Aden will be able to see her. 

He seems more interested in the lead vest getting draped over his torso and the large, complex machinery in the room, but he nods anyway. 

Lexa starts to pace in the small room; Clarke sees the technician throw a look over his shoulder. She lets her hand fall on Lexa's forearm, getting her to stand still. "He'll be okay," she says.

"I know," Lexa says reflexively. She scrubs at her face with one hand and exhales. "I know."

"Come on, sit down," Clarke says, rolling over an empty chair. 

"No, I'm fine. You should sit."

"Lexa." Clarke's stare is sternly direct. Lexa sits.

The x-ray doesn't take long and they wheel Aden to a private room this time. The doctor returns with the x-ray films and a cart with the wrappings she'll need to apply a cast. 

"Not too bad. Hairline fracture, not a full break," the doctor says, pointing out a dark crack on the image of Aden's left forearm. Aden is still fascinated by all the medical jargon, and his face loses a little of its pained look as he pays attention to the doctor. The doctor snaps off the backlight. "So let's pick out a cast color, shall we?"

Clarke and Lexa take turns distracting Aden while his arm is wrapped and the cast sets. The doctor is good, calm and personable, asking Aden plenty of questions to keep him engaged with her and not focused on his arm. Afterwards, she snaps off her gloves into the waste bin and gives them their aftercare instructions, with a wink and a lollipop for Aden.

"Tell your mother hello, Ms. Griffin," the doctor adds before leaving, and Clarke looks in any direction but Lexa, hoping she didn't pick up on it.

"Is this your mother's hospital?" Lexa asks, eyebrows knitting adorably.

"Uh, no," Clarke says. She turns to Aden. "That looks good. You ready to go?"

Aden nods, and Lexa helps him down. She holds his free hand as they walk back to the desk to get discharged. Clarke makes interested noises over his cast and sling while Lexa fills out paperwork, and then they emerge into the now-dark parking lot. Clarke leads them to the car and watches Lexa buckle him in the back with incredible tenderness to avoid hitting his arm.

Once they're all settled, Lexa turns to her from the driver's seat. "Hungry?" she asks. "I was thinking we could get a treat since we didn't get to eat at the barbecue? If you want, I can drop you at home instead."

Aden's little face pokes around the edge of her seat, looking encouragingly at Clarke. 

"I'd love to eat with you guys. Wherever Aden wants to go," Clarke says warmly. 

"Burgers!" Aden says immediately.

Lexa laughs, her first smile since leaving the party, and it releases tension that Clarke didn't know she was carrying. "You got it. How does Shipley's Barbecue sound?"

"Yes please," Aden says. He looks at Clarke again, just barely managing to pull enough against his seat belt so he can get his face into the gap between seats. "Thank you for coming with us Clarke."

Something skips in Clarke's chest. "It's my pleasure, buddy."

*

Shipley's Barbecue is a short drive from Lexa's neighborhood. Aden asks for the unhealthiest possible item on the menu, something with bacon and a fried egg on top, but Lexa agrees goodnaturedly, then spends several minutes cutting it into bite-sized portions so that Aden can eat it with one hand. Unsurprisingly Aden doesn't manage to finish it and sleepily declines dessert, head drifting perilously close to his plate as the day's events all crash into him at once.

Lexa gets their dinners boxed up, pays even though Clarke tries to split the bill, and carries Aden out to the car once again cradled in her arms, his broken arm resting on his stomach in its sling. It takes some effort to get him into the back seat again now that he's asleep. Lexa just manages to get him buckled when an employee comes running out of the restaurant. "Ma'am," he says, holding out a plastic bag. "You and your wife forgot your food."

Lexa colors obviously, even in the darkness. "Oh she's-"

"Thank you," Clarke says smoothly, taking the food and sending the employee away before they have to get into any awkward explanations. She hefts it once and shrugs at Lexa, not letting on how much of a thrill ran through her at his assumption. "Easier this way."

They drive to Clarke's in silence, murmuring occasionally but otherwise letting Aden sleep. Outside of Clarke's building, Lexa cuts the engine and the sudden silence feels almost overwhelming. 

"Thank you," Lexa says, her eyes somewhere on the dashboard. "You didn't have to come to the hospital with us."

"Of course I did," Clarke says. She finally gives in to the impulse that's been itching at her all day and reaches for Lexa's hand, threading their fingers together and squeezing. "You shouldn't have to deal with that alone."

"I was losing it a little bit at the hospital," Lexa admits. 

"I thought you handled it really well, given what you guys have been through," Clarke says. Her thumb drifts along Lexa's skin, rubbing back and forth.

Lexa looks into the back seat where Aden is still out, breathing deeply, then back to their joined hands. "Clarke, you didn't ask your mother to help me out at the hospital, did you?"

Clarke's breath stutters a little. "Uh." Her thumb stops moving. "No?"

But Lexa smiles at her, leaning forward slowly enough that Clarke understands what she's about to do, and presses a slow, soft kiss to her mouth. She rests their foreheads together. "You shouldn't have. But thank you."

Clarke relaxes into her seat, enjoying how Lexa is slowly rubbing their noses together. "Any time. Thank you for bringing me home." Feeling bold, she presses forward to kiss Lexa again. Still soft, but warmer this time, and longer. "Will you call me some time this week?"

"Yes."

"And you'll text me when you get home?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Clarke pecks her one last time, then pulls away. She's loathe to leave this car where they can sit in the dark and pretend the outside world doesn't exist, but they both need to rest. "Good night."

"Good night," Lexa murmurs. She waits until Clarke is inside, where Clarke discovers she has a number of texts from Octavia, Raven, and her mother all racked up. Sighing, she waits until she's in bed to deal with them all and falls asleep thinking of Lexa's hand in hers.

*

Lexa calls the very next day. 

"This is unexpected," Clarke says, phone once again on speakerphone while she works at roughing out a sketch. 

"Aden wants to know if you're available for lunch," Lexa says.

"Oh 'Aden' does, does he." 

Lexa's voice grows slightly defensive. "He likes you a lot Clarke."

"Just Aden?"

Silence. Lexa's voice takes on a slight whine. "Clarke."

"Yes Lexa."

"He really does want to see you and I can't say no to him today. Please?" 

She should really finish prepping the rest of her canvases at the studio, but she finds she can't say no to Aden either. "I'll be over in forty-five minutes?"

Lexa sounds relieved. "Perfect. See you soon."

Clarke does her best to make her hair look presentable, pulls on a clean pair of jeans and switches her baggy sweatshirt for a blue v-neck sweater that she knows for a fact makes her eyes pop, and is out the door faster than she would ever admit to her friends. She just barely remembers to stop at the store to grab some cookies and rolls up to Lexa's house almost exactly forty-five minutes later. 

Aden is wrapped up in blankets in the living room watching some animated movie on the TV, but he sits up straight as Lexa lets Clarke in. 

"Hey buddy," Clarke says, plopping down next to him. She passes over the bakery bag of chocolate-chip cookies she brought. "These are for you...after lunch," she adds at Lexa's raised eyebrow.

"Thank you," he says, already looking eager to have a cookie until Lexa takes the bag to the kitchen, where Clarke follows.

"Can't say no to anything today?" she asks. 

"Almost anything," Lexa amends. She checks a steaming pot on the oven and pulls it off, pouring it into a bowl. 

"Broccoli?" Clarke says, wrinkling her nose. 

Lexa lifts a finger, indicating for Clarke to wait, and produces a second bowl from the microwave. 

A familiar scent wafts towards Clarke and her face brightens. "Oh my god, is that velveeta?"

"You have to eat your vegetables somehow," Lexa says. She tips her head towards the living room, hidden around the corner where Aden can't see, and lowers her voice conspiratorially. "And it works on him."

"I knew it," Clarke crows. 

"Yes, thank you for the terribly unhealthy advice," Lexa says, rolling her eyes and returning to the oven. She opens the door to reveal a tray of fish sticks and Clarke realizes it's all food Aden can eat one-handed. To her surprise, Lexa loads it all onto a tray and carries it to the coffee table in the living room instead of setting the kitchen table. Clarke follows with three glasses of water and they finish watching the rest of How to Train Your Dragon 2, Aden on the sofa, Clarke and Lexa opposite him on two large cushions on the floor.

She just wants to slide her hand across the floor and touch Lexa's, but Aden is awake and able to look directly at them and if Lexa won't reach for her first, then she won't violate whatever boundaries that Lexa seems to set in her house. 

"Can Clarke stay for another movie?" Aden asks as the credits roll.

"Clarke was already gracious enough to come over on short notice," Lexa says, standing up to clear their plates.

"I can stay," Clarke says, standing up with her, reaching for the glasses. 

"You can pick the movie," Aden says. He looks to Lexa. "Please?"

Clarke imitates him, big shiny eyes, pouty mouth. "Please?"

Lexa just turns away with an exasperated sound, undoubtedly exaggerated for Aden's sake. Clarke wriggles her eyebrows at Aden, who grins. 

In the kitchen they load up the dishwasher together, moving smoothly around each other. Clarke is just folding up the door and latching it when Lexa pushes her bodily against the counter. Clarke doesn't have time to react before Lexa leans into her and kisses her, just as sweetly as the night before. Clarke flutters her eyes closed, sinking into the feeling of Lexa's warm body against hers, pressed in from her hips up with her arms bracketing Clarke's waist. 

Lexa pulls back after a long moment. "Thank you," she says. Then she's stepping away, rustling the bag of cookies, asking Aden if he wants a scoop of ice cream with his. 

Clarke lets Aden pick a second movie and chooses to sit next to him on the couch this time, both of them with a microwave-warmed cookie topped by a scoop of ice cream. Lexa has a peach in her bowl instead of a cookie, although she deigned to also eat ice cream. She joins them on Aden's other side and he snuggles into her. Lexa's arm automatically goes around his small body, holding him protectively while she eats with her other hand. 

He's yawning by the end of the movie and so is Clarke, lulled by a lazy afternoon and slightly too much food. She and Lexa stand up as quietly as possible, Lexa lowering Aden until he's on his uninjured side. She pulls a blanket over his legs and they tiptoe out, Lexa gesturing for Clarke to follow her into the backyard.

It's chilly outside, even with the last of the sunshine, but Lexa sits in one of the deck chairs and Clarke sits next to her.

"You really didn't have to stay so long," Lexa says.

"Really, I wanted to. It wasn't a problem," says Clarke. She wraps her arms around herself, looking at the leaves turned golden-red, drifting down lazily to clutter the grass. 

Lexa turns her head, still resting it against the back of the chair. "Aden likes you a lot."

"I like him a lot. He's a great kid," says Clarke. She likes how casual Lexa looks in her grey sweats and plain white henley, and how the slight breeze stirs stray hairs across her cheek.

"I really panicked yesterday," Lexa says, and Clarke tries to keep up with the change in topic. Lexa seems to have been waiting to unload this since last night. "As soon as I had time to think instead of react, I just kept thinking..." She taps her head against the chair once, mouth twisting with the memory. 

Now that it's just the two of them, Clarke reaches for Lexa's hand. They fall together comfortably, as though they've been holding hands all their lives. "Hey, you were great. You really took control of the situation. And Aden is fine. Kids break their arms; it's a rite of passage. Indra's had a broken arm twice."

Lexa snorts. "I don't know how Octavia hasn't gone grey yet with that one running around."

"The point is, yesterday is just something that happens during childhood. It was no one's fault." Clarke tugs to make sure Lexa is looking at her. "You're doing a great job with Aden. Trust me, I've seen how the pros do it with Nyko and Indra. You are amazing."

Lexa seems embarrassed by the praise, but doesn't let go of Clarke's hand or stop looking at her. "I really want to do this right, Clarke," she says. "I haven't dated for a long time. Not since I graduated and got my commission."

Clarke does the math. "You haven't slept with anyone in seven years?" she blurts before realizing how rude she sounds.

Lexa raises her eyebrows and Clarke goes a bit red in the cheeks. "I never said that."

"Right, I'm sorry." Clarke tries to pull her hand back, but Lexa won't let her go and is, in fact grinning at her discomfort. She clicks her tongue. "You're so mean to me."

"I fed you lunch," Lexa says, drawing herself up indignantly. "With dessert."

"I thought Aden was the one who invited me over. And I brought the desssert," Clarke points out.

"Just using me to get to him, I see," Lexa says and Clarke absolutely can't bear it anymore; she slips onto Lexa's lap in one smooth movement and bends her head down, kissing her with their hands still connected and Lexa's other hand winding around Clarke's waist to hold her in place. 

Clarke presses a little harder, enjoying how Lexa responds, pushing back against her, and she opens her mouth to suck on Lexa's lower lip a little. 

The porch door slides open and a tiny voice says "Lexa?"

Lexa nearly dumps Clarke out of her lap in her haste to stand up, just barely managing to steady both of them on their feet. "Aden?"

He's standing in the doorway, rubbing his eyes sleepily, blanket trailing off his shoulders onto the floor. "Were you kissing?"

"Uh. Yes," Lexa says. She stands up straighter, hands going behind her back in what Clarke can only assume is a natural response to being questioned. "Aden, Clarke and I are going to try dating each other. Is that okay?"

Aden shrugs. "Nyko said you were."

Clarke's mouth drops open. "He told you that?"

"He said he and Indra heard Mr. and Mrs. Blake say that you were dating. Dating means kissing and stuff, right?"

"Yes?" Lexa manages to answer, her voice sounding somewhat strangled.

"Can I have another cookie?" Aden asks.

"Um. No buddy, it's too close to dinner. If you want a snack have an apple," Lexa says.

"Okay," he says, shoulders slumping. Clearly he expected to be allowed another cookie based on getting his way all day, but he doesn't argue. He just turns and shuffles back to the living room, blanket dragging on the floor behind him.

Lexa slides the door shut, then shares a look with Clarke. "Was that alarmingly easy or?" she asks, clearly still confused.

Clarke shakes her head. "I don't know, he's your kid."

"Well." Lexa inhales. "In that case, what are you doing this Friday?"

*

"Why haven't you gotten laid by this chick yet?" Raven demands, once again stuck in her lab. 

"Raven, please stop trying to live vicariously through Clarke and bang a grad student," says Octavia from her office.

"First of all, no, wrong," says Raven. "Second of all, just because I would get a vicarious thrill from someone finally watering Clarke's desert garden-"

"Gross," Clarke interrupts, but Raven keeps going.

"-that doesn't mean I'm wrong about Clarke needing to sleep with her. Was I right or was I right about her being into you?"

Clarke doesn't answer that and instead holds up a dress for Octavia's approval. "Too fancy?"

"Better to be overdressed than underdressed," Octavia says.

There's a sudden clatter and than Indra's head pops into view. "Hi Aunt Clarke," she says. Nyko's face isn't far behind, crammed into the corner of the screen and pushing for more real estate as he wriggles onto his mother's lap.

"Hi Aunt Raven," he says, noticing her picture inset.

"Hi little monsters," she says. 

"Are you making another rocket?" 

"Can we watch you make something else explode?"

"Well actually, your Aunt Clarke is going on a date with Coach Lexa," Raven says with no small amount of glee, which predictably sets off both twins and earns her exasperated looks from Octavia and Clarke.

Clarke spends the next ten minutes patiently answering questions from the twins until Octavia manages to shoo them away, but she finds that the distraction has calmed all her nerves as well. 

"Wear that black Michael Kors, the one that crosses your chest," Raven says, and logs off looking smug.

*

Clarke wears the Michael Kors. It makes her boobs and her shoulders look great and when she takes her coat off in the art gallery where Lexa has driven them, she's gratified to see Lexa actively checking her out. When her eyes slide up and find Clarke watching, she blushes a little, but throws in a lopsided smirk too. 

"You look really nice," Lexa says. 

Clarke repays the favor, enjoying the tight fit of Lexa's black pants and slim white button-down. Simple and spare, but it suits her. "You too."

They drop their overcoats at coat check and then Lexa offers her arm. Clarke slips her hand into the crook of Lexa's elbow so they can start walking through the gallery, an exhibit Clarke had mentioned a few weeks ago. Lexa keeps surprising her, remembering details from conversations they had in passing, offhand comments that Clarke couldn't recall even with prompting.

"How did you get these tickets?" Clarke asks, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing tray.

"One of the parents from the team is friends with the gallery owner," Lexa says. "Actually she emailed me last week offering me two tickets as a thank you gift for the end of the season."

"That worked out nicely," Clarke says. They stop in front of a colorful piece, a narrow floor-to-ceiling canvas in a plain wooden frame. The paint has been layered on so thickly it rises in stiff crests, wavy peaks and valleys that Clarke wants to trace with her fingertips. Instead she slides her hand down to hold Lexa's, enjoying the feeling of muscle under the soft fabric of her shirt.

They continue walking, pausing in front of each picture, Clarke leaning in here and there to murmur to Lexa about the ones she likes - completely unnecessary since the ambient noise in the gallery is moderate at best. She definitely notices the little shiver that runs down Lexa's back every time her breath puffs against Lexa's ear, and she lets her lips brush skin a few times just because she can.

"What do you think?" Clarke says, her nose drifting along Lexa's hairline for a moment. 

"I think," Lexa says, "You'd better stop because we still have a lot of gallery left to see." Her heated gaze makes Clarke involuntarily squeeze her hand. 

They keep walking, but with a new awareness running between them. Clarke can feel it like a current through her body, making her overly conscious of Lexa's nearness and how good she smells every time Clarke leans close. 

They're about to complete their circuit of the gallery, still idly discussing which pieces they liked best, when Lexa stops in front of a little bronze sculpture of a horse rearing on its hind legs. "Aden is sleeping over at the Blakes' tonight," she says, as though discussing the sculpture's aesthetic properties.

Clarke inhales, feeling it catch a little in her chest. "That's good. I mean, for him. Spending time with them even though soccer is over."

"It's just." Lexa slips around Clarke's body, eyes never leaving the sculpture, seemingly moving to get a look from a different angle. Her hand brushes against the small of Clarke's back. "It's nice not to have a curfew."

"Or a game tomorrow. We can both sleep in," Clarke says. Her body drifts into Lexa's, letting Lexa's arm curl around her waist, where she seems content to stay. For her part, Clarke has had enough champagne to feel a slight buzz in her stomach and it's been making her antsy for the better part of an hour. She's more than ready to stop playing games. Once again her lips brush the shell of Lexa's ear and her voice is low, husky. "Let's go back to your place."

Lexa's hand squeezes her hip once before it slides across Clarke's back again and finds her hand. She pulls, leading them back to the coat check. She holds up Clarke's overcoat first, letting Clarke slide her arms in, fingers brushing against Clarke's neck as she pulls her hair free of the collar. 

Clarke tries not to stare at Lexa for the entire drive back to South Arlington. She crosses her legs impatiently, finds that makes it almost worse, and uncrosses them. Then crosses them again, which is when Lexa reaches out and places a hand on her thigh. She almost jumps under the touch. 

"You have to stop doing that or I'm not going to be able to concentrate," Lexa says with her eyes still on the road. 

"Sorry," Clarke says insincerely. She tries to toy with Lexa's fingers, trailing a touch down the length of them, but Lexa withdraws her hand so she can put it back on the steering wheel. She refuses to be distracted the rest of the way and Clarke doesn't really try any harder than that, content to watch how Lexa bites her lip in concentration every time she takes a turn. 

Once Lexa parks in the driveway of her house, everything suddenly feels very quiet and very real. "Come in for a drink?" Lexa asks.

Clarke unbuckles her seatbelt. "Yeah."

She stands close behind Lexa while she unlocks the front door, close enough she can feel the warmth of Lexa's body, close enough Lexa would be flush against her with a deep breath.

Lexa fumbles slightly with her keys before pushing the door open, her boots thumping on the wood floor momentarily before she unlaces them and pulls them off, lining them up neatly with a row of shoes.

Clarke slips out of her heels, a little disappointed to once again be the shorter one. 

"Beer?" Lexa asks. "If you want something stronger...I don't actually have it. I don't keep liquor in the house."

"Beer sounds good," Clarke says. She follows Lexa into the kitchen, leaning against the counter and watching her dig in the fridge. She makes no bones about ogling Lexa when she straightens up, a pair of beers dangling by the necks from one hand. 

Lexa turns that gaze back on her, eyes big and clear and focused on just Clarke as she twists off the bottle caps with her hand. She hands Clarke one bottle and takes a pull from the other, leaning back against her fridge, legs crossed at the ankles.

"So you got Aden out of the house for the night," Clarke says.

"He wanted to see the twins and now that they're not playing soccer..." Lexa gives a one-shouldered shrug.

"Uh huh." 

After her suave assuredness at the gallery, Lexa now seems slightly nervous, one arm across her body, the other helping her nurse that beer. Clarke comes to a decision and sets down her bottle. She pads across the tiling in her bare feet, pausing a little to give Lexa time to move if she wants. She doesn't.

So Clarke doesn't stop until she's stepping against Lexa's body, sliding one leg between Lexa's until she uncrosses her ankles and widens her stance. Clarke meshes their bodies together from the thighs, up to to the hips and stomach, then breasts and finally mouths. She tilts her head and kisses Lexa as deeply as she's wanted for long, long weeks, tongue pushing into Lexa's mouth, finding her warm and wet and waiting. There's a faint clink as she sets aside her beer.

Clarke pushes closer, somehow, groaning into Lexa's mouth, loving the press of their bodies. One hand clutches at Lexa's flexing bicep and the other grips the shirt at her waist, pulling it out of its tuck. Lexa's hands are sliding down her back but they stop just below her hips. Clarke grinds her hips forward with her tongue still in Lexa's mouth and that gets her what she wants, Lexa's hands finally curving over her ass and gripping hard. 

They're starting to pant, kissing so much they can't breathe, Clarke's heart fluttering in her chest. She starts a slow grind against Lexa's thigh and moans again when she feels Lexa hiking up her skirt inch by inch until she can slip her hands underneath the hem. Her hands grip and knead the backs of Clarke's thighs in a rhythm with her hips, pulling her closer and closer until she grips with intent and Clarke understands, wrapping her arms around Lexa's neck so that Lexa can pick her up. Her legs go around Lexa's waist as she lifts, keeping Clarke's torso flush against hers. Their foreheads touch and Clarke keeps dipping in for desperate kisses while Lexa walks them down the hall to her dark bedroom. When she can't have Lexa's mouth, she presses her lips down the length of Lexa's neck and across her shoulder, until they're finally in front of Lexa's bed.

Lexa lowers her gently onto the mattress, her body melting against Clarke's from the hips up. Clarke pushes her hands into Lexa's hair and it's thicker and softer than she imagined. Lexa kisses her openmouthed and dirty, pushing her dress up to her hips. Clarke arches into Lexa's body, loving the weight of her, solid but not crushing. She rucks up Lexa's shirt, pulling it all the way out of Lexa's pants, trying to tug it over her head. Lexa laughs against her mouth, feeling the shirt get stuck under her armpits. 

"Clarke," she says, pulling back. She leans back onto her legs, fingers working at the buttons. Clarke sits up too, working the problem form the other end until the shirt is open and Clarke can shove it off of Lexa's shoulders. She runs her hands up Lexa's abs, the muscles flexing in and out as she breathes. She cups Lexa's breasts through her bra, enjoying the way Lexa's eyes close and she pushes her chest in Clarke's hands. 

They run their hands over each other for a minute, getting used to being this close, to feeling each other. Clarke pulls down one of Lexa's bra straps, leaving kisses in its wake. Lexa pulls Clarke into her lap; Clarke tilts her head back as Lexa nips across her collarbones and up her neck to the curve of her jaw. 

She pulls down Lexa's other bra strap and Lexa finishes the job, reaching behind her back in a flash to snap the bra off, tossing it onto the floor. Her hands aren't done, sliding up Clarke's back again, finding the zipper of her dress and pulling it all the way. She peels the dress down to Clarke's waist and scatters kisses across Clarke's breasts, more licks and nips that has Clarke wondering if maybe Lexa wants to bite, wants to mark Clarke with her teeth. The idea of it sends a rush of wetness between her legs and she scoots back, wriggling out of her dress and kicking it off. She hooks a finger in Lexa's belt to drag her in; Lexa comes willingly, drinking in Clarke's body with her eyes and kissing her messily until their mouths grow slick. 

Clarke wants more than kissing, though. She wants skin to skin, she wants Lexa whimpering with abandon, she _wants_ Lexa. She pushes with her arm and rolls them both over, enjoying the way Lexa's eyes widen slightly as she lands on her back. They shut again as soon as Clarke starts kissing down her body, mouth closing over a nipple and tongue flicking, teeth biting just hard enough to make Lexa jerk against her. She kisses down farther, over that amazing stomach, until she's at Lexa's belt buckle. Her fingers pull the belt free, whipping it loose and dropping it, unbuttoning her pants, digging into the waist and under the elastic band of Lexa's underwear. She pulls down slowly, revealing Lexa's long, muscled legs, those thighs Clarke had watched flexing and gathering in shorts at weekend games. 

When Lexa is totally bare, Clarke pauses at the foot of the bed, just looking at her by what little moonlight is leaking in through the window. "Turn on the lamp," she says, her voice gone husky with desire.

Lexa extends one arm to switch on her bedside lamp, her skin looking invitingly soft in the sudden warm glow. 

Slowly, Clarke reaches behind her back and unfastens her bra. Lexa watches her every move with languid eyes, hands clenching against the sheets. Slowly, Clarke pulls her bra down her arms and drops it to the floor. Slowly, she slides her hands under the waistband of her underwear - she's so glad now Octavia talked her into wearing a matching black set _just in case_ \- and pushes them down, letting them drop to her ankles. Slowly, she steps out of them before she crawls onto the bed, stopping when her knees are on either side of Lexa's thighs. Her back curves as she bends down and kisses Lexa, who reaches up for her hungrily, hands gripping Clarke's waist and pulling until Clarke lets herself be pulled. 

This time when their bodies merge Clarke can't stop herself from exhaling at the gorgeous feel of being pressed against another naked woman, thighs squeezing against her thighs, breasts rubbing together. Lexa is so wet for her, she can tell, and knowing how much Lexa wants her drives her own desire. 

"Let me take care of you," Clarke murmurs. She bites Lexa's bottom lip, then licks it. 

Lexa just nods and watches as Clarke slides down her body again. 

Clarke stops at Lexa's breasts again, unable to avoid anything that looks so good. She takes one nipple in her mouth and massages the other with her hand, wanting to pay attention to all the parts of Lexa's body, wanting to show Lexa how much Clarke is attracted to her. She doesn't let up until she feels Lexa's hips pushing up into her, searching desperately for friction, and then she licks her way down to Lexa's hipbone and bites at the tops of her thighs and teases relentlessly until Lexa says "Clarke, _please_ " in a breathy voice that has Clarke aching.

She pushes Lexa's thighs apart, letting her know what's about to happen. Lexa's hips buck at the first light stroke of her tongue up Lexa's cunt. She grabs Lexa by both thighs, trying to hold her down, keeping her tongue light until Lexa gets used to the sensation. When she feels Lexa's hips drop, her tongue swipes deeper, licking up and brushing Lexa's clit. Her hips buck into Clarke's mouth again and she lets out a moan. Clarke licks into her clit with broad strokes, rubbing it until it's swollen and ready for Clarke to wrap her lips around it and suck. 

Lexa yelps, hips bucking so hard that it throws Clarke off. She dives back in, licking harder now, going as deep as she can, driving her tongue inside Lexa whose hands are clutching at Clarke's head while she whimpers and whines. The noise is driving Clarke crazy, ridding her of all desire to tease. She licks relentlessly into Lexa, but it's the scrape of her teeth against Lexa's clit that has her finally stiffening, hips jerking uncontrollably.

Clarke keeps going, working Lexa through her orgasm until she flinches away from Clarke's mouth. Then she rests her head on Lexa's thigh for a moment, leaving gentle little kisses and watching Lexa come down.

"That was fantastic," Lexa says, her voice hoarse. She finds Clarke's wrist and tugs her up, hands roaming idly across Clarke's skin. She gives Clarke a gentle peck, which Clarke instantly deepens, letting Lexa taste herself while she unconsciously rubs against Lexa's hip to soothe the ache between her legs.

Lexa touches the soft skin of Clarke's inner thigh, fingers drifting up, and she makes a little sound into Clarke's mouth when she feels how wet Clarke is. Clarke can feel dampness starting to trickle down onto her thighs and she really doesn't care about foreplay at all at this point, she just puts her mouth by Lexa's ear and says, "I want you to fuck me."

For not having been intimate with anyone in so long, Lexa seems to remember everything just fine. She pushes Clarke onto her back and slips two fingers into her without any more waiting, curling them and marking how Clarke flushes red. Then her mouth is busy on Clarke's breast and her fingers are pumping, a slow rhythm at first, then faster and harder.

Clarke's panting has taken on a little cry at the end each time, pitching higher and higher as Lexa works her and bites at her. "Harder," she says. 

Lexa wraps her arm around one of Clarke's legs and pushes it up with her shoulder, opening her wider. Clarke gasps as Lexa adds a third finger and tries not to hyperventilate, her hips pushing down on Lexa's hand with every thrust, chasing after the electric feeling building at the base of her spine. Then Lexa lowers her head and sucks on Clarke's clit and everything comes apart, her body shaking and her head shoved back into the pillow, mouth silently hanging open.

Her body sinks back into the mattress after what feels like minutes, shuddering when Lexa pulls out of her. Lexa lies half on top of her with their legs tangled together and they kiss lazily, with Lexa's hair falling around them. She tucks it behind her ear when she pulls back, smiling at Clarke. 

"Like riding a bike, huh," Clarke says.

"A sexy bike," says Lexa, and Clarke pinches her hip. Lexa doesn't even flinch, just leans in and kisses Clarke again, a sweet kiss that has Clarke feeling something she doesn't know if Lexa is also ready to feel.

They kiss languorously slow for a while, heads lying on the same pillow. At some point Lexa manages to tug at the comforter until she can pull it over both of them, and then they keep kissing, hands exploring without a destination in mind. Clarke falls asleep nose to nose with Lexa.

*

Clarke wakes up gradually, still feeling tired, and then she realizes it's still dark. Next to her, Lexa is reaching for her ringing phone and Clarke realizes what noise must have dragged her awake. She snuggles closer to Lexa, dozing off again while Lexa takes the call and speaks to someone in a low voice. When she puts the phone down she turns over and caresses Clarke's arm, then her cheek. "Clarke, I have to go pick up Aden."

Clarke opens her eyes, feeling a little bubble of panic pop in her chest. "What? Why?"

"He's okay," Lexa says, smoothing Clarke's bed-tousled hair away from her face. "He just had a nightmare and he wants to come home."

"What time is it?" Clarke asks. 

"Almost one," Lexa says. She drops a kiss onto Clarke's temple before sliding out from the covers. Her hand hovers over the lamp switch. "Close your eyes."

Clarke obeys, squinting anyway behind her eyelids as the light comes on. She watches Lexa go to her dresser, too sleepy to properly enjoy the view. "Do you want me to, uh...I mean, do you want to drop me off first before you get Aden?"

Lexa pauses with one hand in an open drawer. "Do you want to leave?"

"If you want me to," Clarke says, not letting herself hope for any particular outcome. It's too early for expectations and with everything Lexa told her she doesn't want to upset the progress they've made. 

Lexa comes back to the bed, sitting on the edge. "I don't know," she admits. "I was going to drop you off in the morning before I picked up Aden because I don't know if he's ready to see someone else here yet. Even though he knows we're dating. I want you to stay, I just...don't know."

"Then let's play it safe," Clarke says. She sits up, sheets pooling at her waist, and presses a simple kiss to the corner of Lexa's mouth. "Can you just find me something to wear? I'm not putting that dress back on."

Lexa smiles, way too big to just be appreciating Clarke's humor. Clarke loves this smile on her, how it shines across her whole face. "Yeah. Thank you."

She pulls out soft-looking joggers and a henley for Clarke, who puts them on over her underwear and folds up her dress to put it in a reusable grocery bag with her heels. Lexa's feet are the same size, so she borrows a pair of sneakers too, and they drive back to Clarke's apartment. Clarke doesn't know how Lexa is staying so alert after being woken up so suddenly, but maybe she's worried about Aden, or maybe it's a soldier thing. 

She doesn't linger too long when they get to her building, just kisses Lexa with a closed mouth and thanks her for a great night. 

"I'll call you tomorrow?" Lexa says, unmistakably hopeful about it.

"Call me any time," Clarke says. Then she goes inside, smiling in spite of the late hour and the interruption in her sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

It's Saturday, but Clarke overrode the part of her brain that wanted to wake up early to catch a soccer game as soon as the season ended. Her natural laziness on the weekends combines with getting woken up at one, and she gradually emerges from sleep some time after ten.

She rolls around in bed for a little while, checking social media on her phone, dashing off some quick group texts to Raven and Octavia, and wondering when Lexa is going to call. She's showered, made brunch, and settled in front of her TV to catch up on her Netflix cue by the time Lexa's name shows up on her phone. "Hi," she says, trying not to sound as shy as she suddenly feels. 

"Hi," Lexa says, and in that one word is all the enthusiasm she clearly feels over last night.

"Late morning?"

"I know you like to sleep in on Saturdays. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Oh." Clarke smiles at the consideration. "Thanks."

"Um. Thank you again for understanding last night."

"It's totally fine. How's Aden?"

"Embarrassed that he got scared at a sleepover, but we talked about it at breakfast and he wants to try again in a couple weeks."

"That's good. Who hasn't had to call their parents in the middle of the night to get them from a sleepover." Clarke pauses, not knowing if it's a sore spot to call Lexa Aden's parent. But Lexa continues as easily as ever.

"I used to get picked up before everyone went to sleep," she confesses.

"You? You couldn't stay the night at a sleepover?" Clarke asks, laughing.

"Just until I was eight," Lexa says defensively. 

Clarke laughs at her a little longer, enjoying the image of a tiny Lexa in footie pajamas. "So what's on the menu for today?"

"Lots of Aden and Aunt Lexa time. I think he knows he interrupted something and he feels guilty about it."

"Aw, he's such a sweet kid," Clarke says. 

"He's pretty sensitive. I think moreso since...you know."

Clarke grows somber. "Yeah."

"Anyway." Lexa tries to bring some energy back to their conversation. "What about you?"

"Netflix and not moving from the couch until I have to," Clarke says.

"That sounds fantastic. Tell Netflix hello for me. I've been wanting to watch a documentary on tank warfare."

"That sounds very educational." Clarke bites her lip as they slide into a short silence. "When can I see you again?"

Another pause. "Tomorrow?" Lexa says. "Is that too soon?"

Clarke feels a little flutter of happiness that Lexa doesn't want to wait to see her. "No, definitely not."

"Come over for lunch? Aden will be here."

"I'll make sure to bring the cookies."

"We just need you to bring yourself," Lexa says earnestly, and Clarke can't help but feel another little bit of her heart click into place.

*

Octavia texts her that afternoon, checking in since she knows Lexa came to get Aden. 

**Big Blake** (3:12 PM): Sorry for derailing your date

**Clarke** (3:13 PM): It's fine. I'm seeing Lexa again tomorrow

**Big Blake** (3:13 PM): And Aden too?

**Clarke** (3:13 PM): Yeah we've already hung out all together before so it's not a big deal

**Big Blake** (3:14 PM): You really like her this much?

**Clarke** (3:14 PM): Like what?

**Big Blake** (3:15 PM): Like...date someone who has a kid that much

**Clarke** (3:16 PM): Aden's cool I don't mind him

**Big Blake** (3:19 PM): But like ok and I say this with all the love in my heart but eventually Lexa is gonna prioritize Aden over you so you gotta feel more than you don't mind him, does that make sense

**Clarke** (3:25 PM): Yeah I get it

**Clarke** (3:26 PM): We kind of already talked about it I guess

**Clarke** (3:26 PM): I mean it's why she didn't want to date at first I know Aden is her priority 

**Big Blake** (3:29 PM): Ok but like

**Big Blake** (3:29 PM): Do you KNOW

**Clarke** (3:30 PM): KNOW what

**Big Blake** (3:31 PM): That you're basically dating a single mom

**Clarke** (3:32 PM): It's too soon to worry about this stuff we've literally gone on like two dates

**Big Blake** (3:33 PM): Um does seeing her every single weekend for two months not count as dating or

**Clarke** (3:33 PM): You know we were just friends then those don't count

**Big Blake** (3:33 PM): Whatever 

**Clarke** (3:34 PM): Don't tell Raven this will just stress her out

**Big Blake** (3:35 PM): No shit it's stressing ME out

**Clarke** (3:35 PM): If things get more serious I will definitely come ask for your advice in the meantime do you want to hear about this date or not

**Big Blake** (3:36): Omg you slept with her

*

Aden is delighted to see her when he throws open the door. "Hey buddy," she says. She hefts the cookie bag, widens her eyes, and makes a "shh" gesture before handing it over. He very seriously winks back at her, although he's not very good at it and it comes off as more of a slow blink.

"What's going on?" asks Lexa, emerging from hallway.

Aden whips around, hiding the bag behind his back. "Uh."

"No cookies before lunch," Lexa says, narrowing her eyes at the both of them.

"Promise. Girl Scout's honor," Clarke says, holding up two fingers.

"That's not the Girl Scout salute," Lexa says primly, and leaves Clarke looking at her own fingers trying to figure out if it's three or not. She looks at Aden, who just shrugs at her and goes to the living room with his cookies, depositing them on the coffee table. 

Clarke joins Lexa in the kitchen, nose twitching as she smells whatever is simmering on the stove. 

"Just meat sauce for spaghetti," Lexa says. She pulls a head of lettuce from the sink and starts dismantling it with a knife on top of a cutting board.

"It smells great," Clarke says, wanting nothing more than to slip up behind her and nuzzle into the back of her neck. But she doesn't know what they can do while Aden is here, even if he did respond well to catching them practically making out. She moves to stand next to Lexa at the counter instead. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Stir the pasta and peel the carrots please," Lexa says. And then she darts her head forward to peck Clarke on the cheek. "Thanks for coming over."

Clarke grins and does as she's told. 

Lunch is at the kitchen table proper this time instead of in the living room. Aden refuses to let Lexa help him and determinedly twirls up his spaghetti with one hand. He makes a mess getting it into his mouth, but eventually pushes away an empty bowl in satisfaction. 

They wash the dishes together while Aden picks out a movie in the living room, their hips bumping, little smiles darting back and forth between them. Clarke enjoys the easy intimacy of it, even if she really wants to lean in and kiss Lexa properly. 

This time Lexa sits in the middle of the couch, Aden curled up on one side of her and Clarke on the other. Clarke sits a little closer than she did last time, but otherwise lets Lexa dictate their boundaries around Aden. She wishes she'd thought to ask before she came over. She's never dated someone who had a child in the picture. She's never even thought about it, hints from her mother about grandchildren aside.

Fifteen minutes in, Lexa shifts her hand so that it lands casually on Clarke's leg just above her knee. She doesn't turn her attention from the movie; she just does it, and Clarke takes the chance to drop her hand on top of Lexa's, squeezing once before settling down. She lets her thumb rub idly every once in a while, and they've leaned into each other a bit by the time the movie is over. 

It's just...nice. And quiet and domestic and not really something Clarke pictured herself doing before she turned thirty, but here she is and she's - not okay with it, not yet. She's not sure there's anything to be okay with in the first place. But she doesn't panic right away when she does think about it, not like she might have in college or in art school when she thought she needed to be free to experience as much of life as possible for the sake of her art. But she likes how she feels around Lexa and Aden, and she likes their routine, and isn't itching for anything _more_. 

Afterwards, Aden is sleepy so Lexa sends him to his room for a nap, and she and Clarke scoot closer to each other on the couch, Clarke turning sideways so her legs go over Lexa's lap and her head falls neatly on her shoulder. 

"Can I ask you a question," Clarke says, watching as Lexa plays with her fingers, tracing the length of them, softly massaging them. 

"Mm-hmm."

"What's off limits when Aden is around? Can I kiss you?"

Lexa pauses for a moment, then resumes working her way down Clarke's ring finger. "I think he'd be okay with that."

"Have you talked to him about us?"

Lexa sighs. "Not really. I haven't had a chance to. Yesterday I just wanted to reassure him that I would always come get him and today..."

"Yeah, I get it." Clarke kisses Lexa's shoulder before putting her head back in its spot. "Just let me know what the rules are? Because I'd like to see you more."

"I'd like that too," Lexa says. She shifts a little under Clarke's legs. "I know we haven't actually been dating long-"

"Only if you don't count hanging out after soccer games," Clarke says, hearing a little Octavia-voice in the back of her head laughing at her.

"Okay, there's that," Lexa admits. "But us, the two of us, it's still really new and I need you to know what you're getting into."

"We can figure that out when we get to it," Clarke says, but Lexa shakes her head.

"We're there, Clarke. We were there the moment I decided to ask you out." Lexa sighs, her grip on Clarke loosening. "You're still young. You should be dating someone who can go out with you on a weeknight or invite you over without having to find a babysitter."

Clarke sits back a little. "I'm still - how old are you? You're not even thirty yet. You're like a year older than me."

"But my life is completely different from yours," Lexa says. 

"Is this because I had to leave two nights ago?" Clarke asks. "Lexa, it happens. Next time won't-"

"You don't know that," Lexa interrupts, but without any sharpness to her voice. "Clarke, there will always be an interruption. There will always be something I have to take care of instead of being able to see you."

Clarke wishes she'd never brought up boundaries. She wishes she hadn't listened to Octavia. She wishes they could go back to just cuddling on the couch in comfortable silence. She tries touching Lexa's cheek, getting her to turn her head so they can look at each other. "Lexa, I'm fine with that. I understand it and I respect you so much for putting Aden first."

"You deserve to have someone who puts you first," Lexa says. She looks the most uncertain Clarke has ever seen her, even more adrift than when she was pacing in the hospital waiting for Aden to get admitted. 

Clarke wants to kiss away the crinkle between her brows. "I know what I deserve."

"Clarke, it seems fine now, but if we get serious in the future I don't want you to feel like you're making me choose. I don't want to end up resenting you for asking for something that you have every right to ask for."

"Okay, slow down," Clarke says. "We definitely aren't there yet. And lots of people manage to love their kids and have adult relationships at the same time, so it's not like it's some impossible mystery."

Lexa seems to contemplate that, the crinkle growing deeper, eyes going slightly unfocused as she thinks. Like it honestly never occurred to her to try and balance the two. 

Clarke does kiss her then, a sweet one on her cheek that lingers. "Let's just enjoy the rest of today. I like you a lot, and I like Aden a lot. If it gets more serious, then yes, we'll have to navigate that. But I'm willing to see if that happens. Okay?"

Lexa seems to relax a little, pulling Clarke's legs closer to her body again. "Okay."

"But I get to have two cookies after this," Clarke adds, enjoying how it makes Lexa smile.

*

One routine replaces another. Before, she would wake up on Saturday and haul herself down to the soccer fields. Now Lexa knows how much Clarke enjoys sleep, so she sets up their dates in the afternoons. 

They have early weekday dates too, with Lexa getting off work at the same time that Aden gets out of class and Clarke staying a little later in her studio to make up for afternoon hangs. But she doesn't sleep over again, not until Aden feels ready to spend the night away.

"Octavia invited us both to dinner," Clarke says after a few weeks. "And she invited Aden to stay the night." She tries not to seem excited by the prospect, just stating a fact, but it's impossible not to think of the last time Aden went to a sleepover and they had the house to themselves.

Lexa finishes cutting up the vegetables for the salad, the ones Clarke brought for dinner. Lexa and Aden eat earlier than Clarke, who otherwise keeps very European dining hours. But sometimes when she goes over to Lexa's they relax together or do a little work while Aden finishes his homework, then have dinner and watch a movie. It's incredibly lowkey and slow, but nice. She's never taken it this slow with anyone - then again she's never needed to either. 

"I'll ask Aden if he wants to go," Lexa says. She starts tossing ingredients together, focusing on the bowl in front of her, but by now Clarke knows when Lexa is being truly or casual or feigning not to give away her interest.

"I was thinking," Clarke says, still playing this game where neither of them tries to show their excitement. "My place is closer to Octavia's. So after dinner we could head there instead? And that way you're closer to Aden in the morning to pick him up."

Lexa's lips purse, like she's trying to hide a smile. "You were thinking, huh."

"Yeah, it just occurred to me." 

"Hmm." Lexa turns around and drops the salad bowl into Clarke's hands. 

"What, you don't think it's a good idea?" Clarke asks, depositing the bowl on the kitchen table.

"Well it just seems very spur of the moment. It might require more planning," Lexa says, joining her with placemats and cutlery. "You know I like planning."

"Stop it," Clarke says, pressing a quick kiss to her mouth. "Yes or no."

Lexa's only response is a coy smile, and then she turns around to go fetch Aden from his room. 

"Lexa. Lexa!" Clarke says indignantly, trying to get her attention back, but Lexa is already knocking on Aden's door and asking him to come out to eat.

"You're awful," Clarke informs her as she continues to slip back and forth between the table and the stove. Lexa responds by kissing her, a glancing little thing that nevertheless makes Clarke tingle pleasantly. 

They put a little distance between them as Aden emerges and takes his seat. So far, holding hands and hugging is okay, but Lexa hasn't wanted to push him too far too fast. Personally, Clarke thinks Aden is far more resilient than Lexa gives him credit for, but she's also not Aden's primary caretaker and it's not her place to question Lexa's decisions for him.

After dinner, after they've done their little assembly line of dishes with Lexa soaping, Clarke rinsing, and Aden drying, they go to Lexa's bedroom while Aden is allowed an hour of video games in the living room.

"You think he knows what we're doing in here?" Clarke asks, walking towards Lexa on her knees on the mattress as Lexa scoots up towards the headboard. Clarke ends up sitting on Lexa's thighs, hands idly weaving through her thick hair while Lexa hugs her around the waist. Her hands roam across Clarke's back, then dip down to grip where her ass just begins its lush curve.

"I think he knows we kiss. That cat is out of the bag," Lexa points out, chin lifting up to receive the warm press of Clarke's mouth.

Clarke kisses her deeper, tongue licking into her mouth, body pressing closer and closer until she can feel Lexa breathing against her. She absolutely loves the way Lexa's hands run up her sides, firm enough not to be ticklish, massaging into her back before sliding back down to grip her waist. Lexa always touches her like she can't get enough of Clarke, like she has to have a handful of Clarke at all times.

It lingers in the back of Clarke's mind that maybe she could ask how it's going talking to Aden about this stuff, but there's still that reluctance to interfere with any kind of decision Lexa makes as a parent. She doesn't have any right, after dating someone for a couple of weeks. But it feels like it's been so much longer, longer even than the actual few months they've known each other.

She buries it all in the physical sensation of being close to Lexa for the rest of the evening, but it comes back to her when she's at her own apartment. Sleep comes hard that night.

*

The weekend takes forever to arrive. Lexa has agreed to stay over at Clarke's ("It makes logistical sense." "You're such a romantic.") and Clarke spends the week working hard and deep cleaning her apartment.

Raven watches her over her webcam, now permanently in residence in her lab as the launch date approaches. "Are you cleaning a clean floor?" she asks.

"I walked on it, so I need to clean it again," Clarke says, swiffering back and forth in front of the camera.

"Are you just gonna walk backwards with a mop trailing after you until Lexa comes over? Hasn't she already been to your apartment? Why are you freaking out so bad about this?"

Clarke stops, just on the edge of the screen, leaning on her mop. When she looks around, her apartment barely looks lived-in anymore, straightened to millimeter precision. "I don't know," she admits. 

"Is there something else going on between you two?" Raven asks.

Clarke shuffles back over to the kitchen counter where she's left her laptop and sits down gingerly, feeling tired from the constant work and cleaning and fretting. "Yes. I don't know. I mean, things are great between us. We talk all the time and she's great. You should see her with Aden."

"Okay, but what about when she's with you."

"We don't get a lot of...just us time. She has a kid to think about." Clarke shrugs. It's never felt like a burden, working around Aden, and she doesn't want to make it sound like she resents him. She likes him a lot, and not just as a kid, but as his own person. He's kind and smart and they get along fantastically, especially when they team up against Lexa to get a little extra dessert or play video games a few minutes longer.

"Look, that's admirable, but..." Raven makes a face and Clarke knows what's coming next.

"We've already talked about that," Clarke interrupts. "I'm fine with it. I know what I was getting into when we started dating."

"She's a single parent," Raven says.

"I know that. Why does everyone keep pointing this out to me like I somehow managed to miss it?" Clarke grumbles.

Raven has the good grace to look chagrined, which is a near miracle considering how stressed she must be. Then again, she's always been good under pressure. "Sorry. But you have to admit, you've been together for like a month. That's not the longest time to be able to make judgments about the future."

"I know that too. Can you guys give me a little credit? Lexa was upfront with me about how her life is balanced right now. If we get more serious, we'll reassess. Like adults." She huffs, blowing stray hairs out of her eyes.

Raven remains relentless. "I mean, you talked about it, but something is still clearly kind of freaking you out. The last time I saw you cleaning like this was in college when your mom visited for the first time."

"It's not about Lexa," Clarke says. She leans her elbows on the counter, head in her hands, pushing her hair back tightly. "I'm just - I think I really like her. Really really like her. Not just in spite of all the kid stuff. Like, because of it. Is that crazy? Am I too young?"

"What's too young?" Raven asks with a shrug. "Octavia had Indra and Nyko while she was still in college. Worked out great."

"Wait a minute, first I need to be careful about getting involved with a single parent, and now it's not a problem?" 

"I'm being a good sounding board, Griffin," Raven says. "Diametrically opposing you to draw out a logical argument. Shit, like catch up."

"Did you sleep at all?" Clarke asks, peering closer at her screen. 

Raven puts up a hand. "Stop getting all close to the camera like that, I can see your forehead pores."

Clarke pulls back. "Like seriously, can you take a nap?"

Raven ignores her. "Back to your problem though, which I'm actually enjoying helping you solve." She taps a pen against the desk. "You feel what you feel. You seem happy, mostly. If you feel like you want to be with her, why not give it a shot?"

"What if it doesn't work out? It's not fair to Aden to have him get used to me and then not be in his life anymore, especially when he's already lost his parents." Clarke feels memories of her father tugging inside of her, but she pushes them back down with practiced ease.

"Not to be callous, but kids are resilient. And anyway, if he actually does get attached to you, it sounds like Lexa's the type of person to be mature enough to let you stay in his life," Raven points out.

"I don't want to mess this up," Clarke says. 

"Then try not to mess it up," Raven says. "I know it's been a while, but that's all you can do in any relationship."

Clarke lays her head in her arms, looking sideways at the computer. "You're too smart for your own good."

"The world is lucky I'm this smart," Raven says, preening. "I am literally responsible for advancing the knowledge of all mankind."

"Oh my god, go take a nap," Clarke says, and ends the call.

*

Aden is bouncing in the back seat when Lexa picks up Clarke for dinner that Friday night. "Hi Clarke," he says, not even waiting for her to sit in the front seat.

"Hey bud," she says, clipping in her seat belt, then promptly twisting it up as she turns so she can look at him while she talks. "You excited for the sleepover?"

"Yeah." He kicks his legs a few times. "Are you and Lexa having a sleepover too?"

Clarke freezes, trying not to be obvious about wanting to look at Lexa for an explanation. She figures it's just better to be honest, especially with a kid as sensitive as Aden. "Yeah, I think so. Is that okay with you?"

"I get to go to a sleepover, so it's fair that Lexa gets to go to a sleepover," he says with impeccable logic. 

Clarke finally does turn towards Lexa, who she can see is barely holding in a smile. She notes that for future payback.

They chat amiably all the way to the Blake house, where Indra and Nyko have evidently been waiting with their little faces smushed against one of the front windows, because Clarke sees a curtain shift, and then the twins burst out of the house and make it all the way down the front walk before they're even properly out of the car. 

They offer perfunctory greetings for Clarke and Lexa before absconding with Aden into the backyard, yelling something about supersoakers that has Clarke pitying Octavia and Lincoln.

"Hi guys," says Lincoln, hugging Clarke and shaking hands with Lexa. 

Lexa holds up the bottle of wine that she brought, and they go into the kitchen where Octavia is just putting a tray in the oven. Lincoln easily slips into her space, handing her things without being asked, confidently starting new messy spots on the countertop because Octavia isn't far behind with a dishrag.

For so long, Clarke has watched Octavia and Lincoln work together as a little unit. They were a team from almost the moment they met; without that connection, Octavia probably wouldn't have gone through with the pregnancy despite Clarke and Raven's promises to help her no matter what she decided. But she chose to make a family with Lincoln, and for ten years they've been the most stable presence in Clarke's life. Not even her parents were as reassuring, especially not after her dad passed away and her mom took years to pull herself back together. 

She's wanted that in a lowkey way for so long, she's only now realizing. Dating was fun after college, and then it was less fun as she tried to build serious relationships that ended up failing. People were hard to trust after her last bad breakup and she was fine with that. She still has the people she loves most in her life, and her career has taken off, and putting dating on hold for a bit seemed like the way to go at the time. 

Lexa pulls her attention when she hands Clarke a wine glass, already poured with the red she favors. "You okay?" she asks.

"Great," Clarke says.

Lexa's arm slides along her waist, just for a second. She touches Clarke more often these days, though not for very long if other people are around. "Did you want something besides wine?"

Clarke inhales the bouquet coming off the glass. "Nope. It's perfect."

*

Lexa is probably more nervous than Aden to leave him for his second try at a sleepover. She doesn't show it that much, staying cool for Aden's sake, but as they're driving to Clarke's apartment she can tell that Lexa is gripping the steering wheel a little harder than necessary. 

"He'll be fine," Clarke says. 

"I know."

"Even if he wants to go home again, he'll be fine."

Lexa doesn't answer, but her grip loosens marginally. Clarke rubs her thigh in sympathy but otherwise doesn't distract her, knowing how Lexa prefers to focus while driving.

Once inside Clarke's apartment, she feels a sudden rush of nerves. She knows she cleaned, and yet she glances around making sure the place is the way she left it. She hits one of the lamps in the living room, casting everything in a soft yellow glow. "Do you want a drink?" she asks.

"Better not, in case Aden calls," Lexa says. She leans her hip against the counter, watching as Clarke putters around, clinking bottles on the sideboard. She's calm now, her nerves all used up on the drive. "Clarke, relax."

Clarke stops with her fiddling, letting go of the tumbler she pulled down from the cabinet. She puts her hands flat on the counter, breathing in and out until she feels Lexa slip up behind her, arms circling her waist. "Clarke," she murmurs into her hair. "Nothing has to happen."

Clarke places her hands on top of Lexa's, feeling warmth seep into her body. "But I want things to happen. I don't know why all of a sudden I'm just..."

"We've never stayed here before," Lexa says. She rests her chin on Clarke's shoulder. "I was a little nervous the first night you stayed over at my house."

"I was nervous too," Clarke admits, but with a smile. She leans into Lexa's body, feeling all the stress and worry ebbing, appreciating just being alone with Lexa. She turns around in Lexa's embrace, letting her arms rest on Lexa's shoulders. Lexa's face is kind and soft, watching without expectation. "Thanks for being you about this."

"You don't have to thank me for anything," Lexa says. Her hands massage a little at the small of Clarke's back. "I like being with you in any situation."

Clarke answering grin is so broad it almost makes her cheeks ache. "You're such a sap," she says, dipping closer for a light kiss. She adds a few more kisses for good measure, still smiling, relaxing completely into Lexa's arms. "I love it."

She doesn't miss how Lexa's fingers stop, then start again. "What can I say," Lexa says. Her mouth hovers close to Clarke's. "You inspire me."

The shift from innocent to something more heated is the most natural thing in the world to Clarke, how one moment she's smiling and the next she's letting out a breathy little sound as Lexa leans a little bit, just enough for her body weight to push Clarke against the counter edge. Her kiss is much more than the light pecks Clarke was dotting across her lips just a moment ago. It's deeper, and as she pushes her tongue into Clarke's mouth, wetter and hotter.

Clarke licks back eagerly, body responding right away to the pleasure of Lexa's touch. She sucks Lexa's tongue, then her lower lip, and hears a harsh pant through Lexa's nose. Suddenly there are hands under her thighs, lifting her, and she's sitting on the counter with Lexa pushing forward between her legs. 

It's a nice angle, being taller than Lexa in this position, and she uses it to her advantage by kissing down harder until neither of them can breathe. She likes how it feels to dig her fingers into the nape of Lexa's neck and draw her up, Lexa's hands running up and down her thighs. She likes how their bodies fit together with her ankles hooked around Lexa's back. 

Her hand snakes down between them, skimming over Lexa's stomach and finding her belt buckle. Clarke tugs blindly, unwilling to stop kissing Lexa, working it loose inch by inch until it flaps free. She works at the button of Lexa's jeans next, slipping her head to the side to trail wet kisses down Lexa's throat. The button comes free and Clarke bites at the juncture of neck and shoulder at the same time that she slips her hands into Lexa's underwear. 

Lexa bucks into her hand, breathing starting to grow ragged. "Clarke," she says. 

Clarke doesn't stop kissing her neck, but her hand stops. 

"Can we...bedroom?" Lexa asks, words coming out between kisses, like she can't think with Clarke's mouth on her.

Clarke's answer is to push Lexa back and hop down, feet landing with a slap. She links their hands and tugs Lexa along, heart beating faster with every step.

*

It's a little less frantic than last time. They go slow and enjoy each other and Clarke lets her first orgasm roll over her in slow waves. Lexa is attentive, exploring all the little sensitive spots that make her gasp, returning to them over and over. 

Clarke sleeps a good, deep sleep with her back snugged up to Lexa's front. 

They separate some time in the night, neither of them accustomed yet to having another body in bed. Clarke wakes up in the early morning feeling too warm, only to find she's rolled over and cocooned herself in the covers leaving Lexa half-exposed. She rolls back, pushing the comforter completely over Lexa's body without waking her, and falls asleep again with their hands touching.

The second time Clarke wakes, pale wintry light is leaking in around her blinds and Lexa is already up. Clarke finds two wide open eyes and a soft smile waiting for her when she turns her head on her pillow. Lexa's hair is wild around her head, the waves curling out in big poofs. "Hi," she says.

Clarke snuggles closer to her, finding her feet under the covers and rubbing them with her own feet. She doesn't speak, still a little sleepy, not quite ready to wake up all the way. Lexa indulges her, rubbing their noses together once but otherwise not moving. The back of her hand gently strokes Clarke's stomach until she dozes off.

The third time's the charm. Normally Clarke has to snooze her alarm at least three times before she drags herself out of bed on any given morning, and this morning is no different in her resistance to waking up. Especially when it's Saturday and there's a gorgeous woman cuddling her in her sleep. 

Lexa is curled into Clarke's side now, head half resting on Clarke's pillow and arm across her waist. Clarke turns her head away just in time to let out a massive yawn. "What time is it?" she asks, words stretched and distorted by her wide open mouth.

"Almost ten," Lexa says. She kisses Clarke's shoulder. "I have to go pick up Aden soon."

"Breakfast first?" Clarke asks hopefully. 

Another kiss for Clarke's shoulder. "Yes, please."

Still, Clarke makes no move to get out of bed, wanting to lie there a while longer with Lexa idly touching her and their legs intertwined. Then her stomach makes a little gurgle and Lexa pokes at it, raising an eyebrow.

Clarke grumbles but swings her legs from under the covers, instantly pimpling into gooseflesh at the sudden cold air. She hurries to pull on clothes, including her warmest fleece hoodie, and when she pulls her hair free of the collar, finds Lexa watching her.

"You're just gonna lie there?" Clarke asks, hands going to her hips.

Lexa nods smugly. 

"Wow, okay." Clarke looks down and sees Lexa's jeans at the foot of her bed. She flicks them up into her hands using her foot, and tosses them at Lexa's head. "Come help me make pancakes, jerk."

She leaves the bedroom for the kitchen, mentally tallying up ingredients. Lexa pads out a few minutes later, finger combing her pile of hair and not making a single dent in it. Clarke loves her hair down and she leaves off searching for vanilla extract in a cabinet to slide her fingers into Lexa's curls and pull her close for a proper good morning kiss. 

"Hi," Clarke says. 

Lexa's eyes drift open after a moment. "You sleep ok?" she asks as her hands go to their usual spot on Clarke's waist. 

"Uh huh. You?"

Lexa nods, and they sway on the spot a little, enjoying the morning quiet and each other. Eventually Clarke remembers that she's hungry and pulls away, pulling out eggs and flour and baking soda while Lexa pulls out a pan and plates and a mixing bowl. Clarke throws some fresh blueberries on top and they eat at the kitchen island, their feet sliding together on the bottom rungs of the stools. Lexa helps her clean up, drying off plates in between still-syrupy kisses.

"Say hi to Aden for me," Clarke says at the door. 

Lexa finishes using an elastic band to wrap her hair up in a bun and pulls on her coat. "I will. Call you tomorrow?"

"Call me tonight if you want," Clarke says, meaning it as a joke, but it makes Lexa pause in the middle of doing up her buttons. 

"Do you want me to?" she asks carefully.

"I..." Clarke thinks for a minute. "Yes? If you wanted to?" She hates how uncertain she sounds, but she doesn't want to scare Lexa away. She wants to try and keep it slow, to respect that Lexa is still adjusting her new life and has responsibilities that take priority over anything else. But at the same time she just wants to see Lexa all the time, and she wants Lexa to be honest about wanting to see her too.

"I don't know," Lexa says. She must see some of Clarke's disappointment because she hurries on. "I want to, I want to spend a whole weekend with you. But I think I need to talk to Aden first. This feels like..." Her jaw works, that little sideways grind she does when she's agitated or nervous. 

"Like it's starting to get real," Clarke finishes. 

"Yeah."

It feels good to say it out loud, even if Clarke hadn't imagined they would be talking about it now, here, with Lexa on the verge of leaving. "Is that crazy?" she asks. "We've been dating for a month but we've known each other longer than that and I just...that's not crazy, right? To feel like I've known you longer?"

"It's not. It's not crazy," Lexa says in a low, muted voice. She looks like she wants to step into Clarke's space, like her body is yearning forward and it would just take half a breath to bring them together again. But she stays by the door, ready to leave. "I need to talk to Aden first," she says again. 

"Okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay."

Lexa's goodbye kiss feels a bit perfunctory, and her departure is stiff. 

"Shit," Clarke says, leaning against her front door.


	6. Chapter 6

Lexa doesn't call on Sunday, just sends a few texts. Clarke can't help but be disappointed, but she keeps her tone light whenever she replies. 

Lexa is distant during the week too, and Clarke doesn't know how to breach the topic of talking to Aden without coming across as pushy. She retreats to her studio instead to wait it out, hoping that things will be different once the weekend rolls around.

She misses Lexa and Aden in the meantime, the beginnings of a routine that they were forming. She fills those hours with work instead, then finds herself with too much free time in the evenings.

She doesn't even realize how much free time until she's scheduling dinner with her mother, who she's only spoken to on the phone for months now. Her mother is perpetually busy, which is the way she likes it now that Clarke is out of the house and Jake is gone, but on Thursday night she finds herself at a nice little restaurant close to the hospital, spilling the whole situation to someone she'd only given dribs and drabs to up to this point.

Her mom is mostly quiet throughout the whole thing, sipping from her wine glass and watching her daughter with quiet solemnity. 

At the end of it all Clarke stops and rests her forehead in her hands.

"Honestly honey it sounds like you know what you want," Abby says. 

Clarke looks up at that, pleasantly surprised. 

Abby continues. "Lexa is the one who's unsure. She has a lot more variables in her life."

Clarke looks at her mother, really looks at her. They're both adults with adult lives and problems and she feels like she can ask a question more as a peer now, rather than the daughter of an overprotective yet distant mother. "Why didn't you ever date again after dad died?" she asks.

Abby's eyes widen, just a bit, but she muses over the question without seeming to be hurt by it. "I did date," she says after a moment.

It's Clarke's turn to sit back in her chair, completely taken by surprise. "Why didn't you tell me? When was this?"

"When you were in college," Abby says. She fiddles with the stem of her wine glass. "The first few years after your dad died I threw myself into my work, but once you were in college and the house was empty...I guess I realized how lonely it was."

"So you...I mean, who was it? Was it someone I know?" Clarke asks, more intrigued than anything. They're not close, not the way Clarke and her dad were close, but they reached a detente after Clarke graduated and Abby finally realized how much she'd pushed Clarke away while dealing with her grief. 

"A couple of someones," Abby admits.

Clarke mock gasps. "Mom, do you have a reputation now? Are you being safe?"

Abby laughs. "Unintended pregnancy hasn't been an issue for me for a while, honey. And you did know one of them. Marcus Kane."

Clarke's gasp is real this time. "Uncle Marcus? Are you serious? How long?"

"About six months," Abby says fondly. "It was nice, but I think Jake was it for me. I'm happy with my work, and with you."

Clarke's smile is small but happy, and she enjoys being the sole focus of her mother's regard for a few moments. 

"Are you happy?" Abby asks. "I mean generally, not just with Lexa."

Clarke nods. 

"That's good." Abby pats her hand. "If Lexa makes you happy, then do what it takes to keep her in your life."

"That's it?" Clarke asks.

"It's probably going to get complicated, but if you believe it's worth it, then do it." Abby finishes patting her hand, the simple gesture leaving her feeling validated nonetheless. "Life is short. Take happiness where you find it."

"What if people get hurt?" Clarke asks, already knowing the answer. 

"Do you want me to tell you that you won't hurt anyone? Because there's a chance you might. That doesn't mean you shouldn't try. It's just a matter of deciding if it's worth it," Abby says. "You're smart and you know yourself best. Trust what your feelings are telling you."

Clarke is a little embarassed by the praise, even coming from her mom, and focuses on her own wine glass. "Thanks," she mumbles. 

"I want to meet her, if you're ever at that point," Abby says. "We'll all get dinner."

"I'd like that," Clarke says, already feeling better for having talked to her mom. 

*

Lexa doesn't ask her to come over that weekend. Clarke tries to rationalize that it's still only been less than a week since they saw each other last. She's been separated from the person she was dating for longer than that and for much less complex reasons. It still stings.

She makes sure to text Lexa at least once every night, just before she knows Lexa will be getting ready for bed. She keeps it easy, light, with no pressure to respond. Sometimes they text back and forth a little bit, and sometimes Lexa simply says goodnight. But at least they're still talking. 

She talks more to Octavia as the second week without Lexa drags on. Raven is completely off the table, with her probe launching some time in the wee hours of next Sunday. They both know from experience that only the most dire emergency could drag Raven away from her work at the moment, and relationship problems don't even come close to dire in this instance.

She's babysitting the twins one afternoon, thinking of how they look incomplete now without Aden and wanting very much to text Lexa, when Indra flops onto the couch next to her. 

"Is Coach Lexa coming over?" Indra asks. 

Nyko isn't far behind, throwing himself in front of the television and turning it on.

"Not so fast," Clarke says. "Did you guys finish your homework?"

"Yes," they chime together, which is generally a sign that they're being truthful. 

So Clarke sits back with her sketchpad and lets Nyko start flipping through channels. "No, Lexa isn't coming over," she tells Indra. "Why do you ask?"

"Whenever you're around Coach Lexa is around," Indra says, watching the TV screen. Clarke can tell she wants to take the remote for herself, but she knows the rules about snatching things from her brother's hands. She also realizes Indra is right; she hasn't seen the twins except while in Lexa's presence for a long time. 

"How was your last sleepover with Aden?" she asks. 

"Really fun," Indra says, finally turning her attention to Clarke instead of cartoons. She squirms around on the couch, rearranging herself into a more comfortable position. "We played Mario Kart and Scrabble and made cookies with dad. It's so awesome when Aden comes over cause we always get to bake something."

"We made a cake yesterday," Nyko says.

Clarke loses focus on her work. "Yesterday? Aden came over yesterday?"

"Uh-huh," Nyko says, unaware that Clarke is staring at the back of his head. "He came over after school and got to stay for dinner and then Coach Lexa picked him up."

"Oh. Um." Clarke tries to parse this information. "That sounds great. Is there any cake left?"

The twins scramble for the kitchen, knowing that if Clarke has cake they'll both be allowed to have cake as well. While they're gone, Clarke pulls out her phone and stares at her last texts with Lexa, from the previous night.

 **Lexa** (9:21 PM): Just another quiet night in

 **Clarke** (9:21 PM): Not even anything exciting on netflix?

 **Lexa** (9:23 PM): All netflixed out

 **Clarke** (9:23 PM): :(

 **Lexa** (9:26 PM): Early bedtime for me

 **Clarke** (9:26 PM): Goodnight then

 **Lexa** (9:27PM): Goodnight

That's the way it's been since they last saw each other. Clarke's thumbs hover over the keyboard, then she types and hits send before she can second-guess herself.

 **Clarke** (4:11 PM): The twins had fun with Aden yesterday

She leaves her phone behind to go supervise in the kitchen and make sure Indra and Nyko don't absolutely ruin their appetites for dinner. She's been guilty of that too many times for Octavia to let her get away with it any more. 

Lexa still hasn't responded by the time they come back to the living room with cake, even though Clarke knows that Lexa's schedule has her home by four, and Clarke finally gives up on patience. It's been eleven days - she has absolutely been counting - and Lexa at least owes her the courtsey of a response.

She takes herself off to Octavia's study and shuts the door, trusting that the twins will be good for at least the next twenty minutes. She pauses again before dialing but hits Lexa's number anyway, tapping one finger on her hip while she waits.

The phone rings so long that Clarke thinks it'll go to voicemail, but Lexa picks up at the very last second. "Hi," she says, sounding uncertain, almost like a question.

"Hey. Do you have a minute to talk?" Clarke asks.

"Uh. Yes. Sure. What is it?"

Clarke paces a little in the small office, wishing she'd rehearsed what she was going to say. "Are we okay?" she blurts out.

"Clarke?"

"Are we, like, as a couple, the two of us, are we okay?" Clarke cringes. "I don't - I'm not trying to push you. But I just, I'm trying to give you space since you seem to need it, and I guess I just need to hear from you that we're still okay?"

Lexa is silent for so long on her end that Clarke has to look at her phone to make sure they're still connected. 

"Lexa?"

"I'm sorry, Clarke. I should have...I should have called you sooner."

"Yeah," Clarke says, but without much snap in her voice. 

"And I'd like to be okay. I really would." 

"Please don't say but," Clarke says, trying to sound like she's joking. It falls flat.

"What do you want me to say?" Lexa's voice is small, uncertain.

"I want you to say that you're not freaking out because we got comfortable with each other so quickly. I want you to say you talked to Aden like an adult instead of putting it off this entire time. I want you to...to invite me over for dinner again." Clarke sinks into the desk chair, shoulders hunched, phone clenched against her ear.

“I want to say that,” Lexa admits. 

“Then just say that.”

“Aden....”

“Don’t use him as an excuse to hide behind,” Clarke says.

The ensuing silence is as sharp as a retort. Then: “I’m not hiding behind anything. I have a duty to him that comes first, and if you can’t understand that—”

“Lexa—”

“—then this is clearly not going to work—”

“Lexa—”

“—and I won’t apologize for putting him first when he’s so vulnerable—”

“Please wait, just hold on—”

“—and that is not hiding, that’s fulfilling my promise to my sister—”

“Lexa, please slow down,” Clarke begs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t doing your best for Aden. You know how much I respect you for taking on that responsibility. You _know_ that.”

She can hear Lexa breathing into the phone. “I’m sorry too,” she says, even though her voice is short, biting off the sentence at the end. “I guess...I’m still sensitive about it.”

“I understand. But I want you to know that I’m on your side. Okay? There’s no judgment. I just want to understand what’s going on with you.” Clarke slides her free hand into her hair, clutching at her scalp while she waits for Lexa to answer.

“I’m not ready for this,” Lexa says. “Can I...can I please call you back in a few days.”

Clarke closes her eyes, sadness and relief all jumbled in her heart. It’s not no, but it’s not yes. “Promise you’ll call,” she says. 

“I promise,” Lexa says, and Clarke can at least believe that. 

*

Clarke lingers in the office slightly too long, because Nyko comes looking for her. He knocks first, knowing that this room is where adults do business, and then pokes his head around the door. 

"Aunt Clarke?" he asks.

"Hey Nyko," she says, sitting up straight in the chair and sniffing a little. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. 

She feels like she couldn't love him any more in that moment; he's always been the more sensitive twin, as gentle as his father and the perfect counterweight to Indra's more fiery temperament. "I'm fine. Did Indra take the remote again?"

"Uh-uh," Nyko says. He comes into the office and climbs into Clarke's lap, the way he used to do when he was a bit younger. Indra doesn't sit in laps much anymore, but with it just being the two of them in the office, perhaps he senses that Clarke needs it. She wraps her arms around him and squeezes once before letting him settle down.

"You okay?" she asks.

Nyko fidgets a bit. "Indra wants to play travel soccer in the spring."

"Oh." Clarke stays still, letting him feel safe and comfortable so he can say what he wants to say.

"I can't play travel soccer. I'm not good enough." His head bows slightly.

"Oh buddy. You're a great soccer player. And you'll still play with Indra at home."

"What if she doesn't want to?" he asks. His voice is so small that Clarke squeezes him again. As the twins have gotten older it's become apparent that Indra is usually fine without Nyko, but when Nyko is without his twin, he's slightly adrift. 

"She'll always be your sister. But as people grow up, sometimes they discover they have different interests. Is there anything you like that Indra doesn't like?" 

Nyko gives the question serious consideration, frowning as he thinks. "I like building stuff like my model planes more. Indra says it's boring."

"Sweetie, you and I both know Indra can't sit still for longer than ten minutes. That doesn't make what you like boring," Clarke says. "What about your other friends? You'll still play soccer with Aden."

Nyko brightens up immediately at the prospect. "Yeah! Aden's not going to travel soccer. He said he doesn't want to play without Lexa."

"See? You'll still have a lot of fun, and you and Indra will find new things to do if she goes to a travel team. And she's probably going to miss you and Aden while she's away at games," Clarke says. She thinks of Aden too, how he and Nyko are so alike in temperament. She wonders if Aden was this sensitive before he lost his parents, if he was perhaps a little bolder or brighter before he went into his shell. She misses him.

"Thanks Aunt Clarke," Nyko says, his little arms going around her neck before he slides back onto the ground. He runs to the door, already eager to rejoin Indra - he forgives and forgets, while Indra broods and holds on to grudges. 

Clarke takes a few more minutes to miss Lexa and Aden, even though she's a little surprised by how much she feels their absence as a pair. Maybe because she knew them as a pair first; in her head it's always been Lexa and Aden, Aden and Lexa. She's never had to mentally adjust to including one or the other. 

Whatever the reason she's forced to leave the office when she hears the sounds of a squabble starting in the living room. One thing is for sure: Nyko will at least get into much less trouble hanging with Aden than he does Indra.

*

A confluence of mixed schedules creates a little vortex of isolation around Clarke for the next few days. She stays in her studio for long hours, concentrating as hard as she can on her work. Sometimes she’s able to force out everything but the canvas in front of her, and sometimes she’s stuck staring listlessly with a pencil or a brush in her hand.

Octavia and Lincoln and her mom are all busy with work, and Raven is in a state of beyond busy with the launch of her probe in a matter of days. Raven's only contact with the outside world is a terse facebook update that she’ll be traveling to Cape Canaveral in case anyone needs to get in contact with her.

Lexa doesn’t call, and even though Clarke knows she eventually will because she’s meticulous about honoring promises, with every passing day she worries more and more about what that call is going to be like. She wishes she knew more of Lexa’s friends, or if Lexa had any friends she could talk to about this. Clarke knows she’s friendly with some of the teachers at her school and she’s at least on good terms with some parents from the team, but she’s never really mentioned close friends, not even army buddies. Clarke doesn’t bring up the army unless Lexa does first, and it’s strange to think there’s so much of Lexa’s life that is just a blocked off mystery.

On Friday, Clarke is just winding down at the studio, intending to leave a bit early so she can avoid traffic and pick up some beer before locking herself in her apartment with Netflix, when her phone goes off with Lexa’s ringtone. 

She stares at it in surprise, as though she was supposed to receive some kind of warning that Lexa would call, some kind of sixth sense acting as precursor. She grabs her phone from her desk and answers. “Hi,” she says, probably a little too eagerly given how apprehensive she actually feels.

“Clarke, I’m so sorry to spring this on you, especially after how I’ve treated you, but I need a favor,” Lexa says rapidfire, and this is not at all what Clarke was expecting.

“A favor?” she repeats.

“I’m stuck at school; we were already shortstaffed because three teachers called in sick today and another one just had a lab accident and I’m stuck coordinating carpools and pickups but Aden has his appointment to get his cast removed today and the doctor said they can’t reschedule for another week and you’re the only one I could ask for help with this and—”

“Lexa,” Clarke interrupts. “Take a breath. It’s okay.”

Lexa stops talking, obeying Clarke’s instructions. 

“Do you need me to come pick Aden up.”

Lexa sighs. “Yes. Please.”

“Okay. I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. What time is his appointment.” Clarke is already moving around, cleaning up one-handed, gathering up her purse and jacket.

Now that Clarke has said yes, Lexa’s voice is much calmer, that in-control cadence Clarke is used to hearing in tough situations. “Three o’clock. I’ll give you all my ID and insurance info when you get here.”

“Okay. I’ll text you when I get there.” She hangs up and leaves, already thumbing open her maps app to make sure there’s no traffic on the way.

*

Lexa is visibly relieved to see her when Clarke finds her in the pickup zone, radio in one hand and tablet in the other that she's using to check ID tags on cars against student names. “Clarke. Thank you so much,” she says.

“Don’t worry about it,” Clarke says.

“Aden,” Lexa calls, and he emerges from the waiting area inside, a backpack over his shoulders. “Clarke’s here to take you to your doctor’s appointment.”

Aden smiles at her, happy to see her, and Clarke feels some tension she didn’t realize she was holding leave her shoulders. She's relieved to see him, and he’s evidently missed her too. 

“Hey bud, ready to have two working arms again?” she asks, putting on a cheerful smile, as though this has been the plan all along.

He nods vigorously. 

“Be good,” Lexa says, giving him a hug. To Clarke, she passes over an envelope that Clarke can feel has a plastic card and some paper inside. “Call me if there’s any problems at the doctor’s office.”

“It’ll be fine,” Clarke reassures her. She looks at Aden. “We got this, right?”

Lexa watches the two of them, and her face goes soft. “Thank you Clarke. You—” She seems to check herself, not looking at Aden, not giving away anything else in front of him. “I’ll see you after the appointment.”

Clarke places a hand on Aden’s shoulder as she guides him to her car, asking him the usual questions about school and his friends, not wanting to let on that anything has been different between her and Lexa. Aden seems unfazed, answering without hesitation, telling Clarke about some new books Lexa got for him that they’re reading together. She's touched in spite of herself by the image of Lexa reading to Aden at bedtime, or listening patiently while he reads to her.

She keeps up the small talk all the way to the doctor, Aden answering readily from the back seat, though he seems to get antsier the closer they get to their destination. He makes no move to unclip his seat belt when they park and for a moment Clarke watches him in the rearview mirror, how he cradles his cast closer to his body. 

"I broke my arm when I was about your age," she says.

He meets her eyes in the mirror. "You did?"

She holds up her right arm, pointing to the spot along her radius, hazy memories of that day playing with Octavia and falling off a skateboard sharpening in her mind. "I had to wear a cast for a long time. I was kind of scared when they were going to cut it off though because they told me they had to use a saw."

Aden is watching her carefully.

"But it was really cool," Clarke continues. "It didn't hurt at all. They have a special saw they use for casts and they make two cuts on the sides and lift off your cast."

"A special saw?" Aden asks.

"It's awesome," Clarke says as reassuringly casual as possible.

Aden finally hits the release on his seat belt. "Can I keep my cast?" he asks.

"I don't see why not," Clarke says, and after that it's easy to get him into the waiting room and signed in with the admit desk. 

When the nurse calls for them to come back into a waiting room, she pauses at the door, evidently remembering them. "Will your partner be coming later?" she asks.

"I - um, no, she couldn't make it. It's just today," Clarke says, subconsciously moving closer to Aden. 

"Okay. Well we'll get you set up to finally get that cast off," says the nurse, continuing on without missing a beat. She leaves them in a room and Clarke helps Aden get seated up on the exam table.

It's quiet for a moment, just the crinkling of the thin paper sheet on the table as Aden wriggles around. But then he looks at Clarke, trying to sit still in her chair, and asks, "Are you Lexa's partner?"

Clarke freezes, completely unsure how to handle this. "Partner?" she repeats clumsily, trying to buy time to think. 

"What the nurse said." Now Aden looks as unsure as Clarke feels, picking at his jeans with his non-cast hand. "Are you and Lexa working together?"

"I think this is a conversation you need to have with Lexa," Clarke says, even though it feels unfair to Aden to just push this off to a later time. 

"She doesn't talk about you," Aden mutters, head hanging, fingers still picking. "Not anymore."

Clarke's insides go hollow hearing that; she at least hoped Lexa was thinking about her as much as she was thinking about Lexa. "Do you want her to? I mean, talk to you about me?"

Aden nods a little.

"You know you can talk to Lexa about anything," Clarke says. She makes a decision and boosts herself onto the table next to Aden, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Lexa loves you more than life itself. You can always tell her anything."

"We used to have a lot of trouble talking," Aden confesses. "When she first..."

Clarke squeezes Aden's shoulder, trying to smile to hide how her heart aches at the thought of him searching so desperately for a connection after losing his parents. She wishes she could somehow protect him from all that, go back and warn him to save him from everything she went through after her father died. "That sounds like it was really hard. But things are better between you two now."

"But she's quiet like she used to be," Aden says, and Clarke can hear that tears aren't far off from the little catch in his voice. Her heart catches too, and she realizes how much she just wants Aden to be happy, how protective she is of him already. As he leans his head against her shoulder she thinks maybe he's gotten used to her too, and that's when she knows that there's more involved here than just working things out with Lexa.

"I'm so sorry, Aden," she says. She shifts her hand from his shoulder to his hair, sweeping it back from his forehead. "It's partly my fault. Lexa and I...we're having a long adult discussion about some things and sometimes when adults focus on serious things too long, they get quiet."

"Are you fighting?" Aden asks, his voice as small as Clarke has ever heard it.

"No buddy, we're not fighting," Clarke reassures him, even though she thinks maybe they are. "Even if we were, it would never be about you. You're awesome, you know that? Lexa loves you so much and I think you're one of the coolest kids I've ever met."

Aden is shifting into her, actively seeking out comfort. "What about Indra and Nyko?"

"Well I've know them their entire lives. When I've known you for almost ten years I'll probably think you're the coolest," Clarke says.

"In ten years I'll be in college and you'll be-"

Clarke clears her throat. "Yes, you will be in college, because you're really smart."

Aden seems to think for a moment. "Or I'll be in the army. Like Lexa."

Clarke stiffens slightly. "You should talk to her about that, buddy. That's a really big decision."

There's a knock at the door then, and they both sit up straighter though Clarke keeps her arm around Aden's shoulders. The doctor enters, holding Aden's chart and already smiling at him. 

"Who's ready to remove a cast?" the doctor asks.

Aden seems to square his shoulders a bit, perhaps remembering Clarke's story from the parking lot. Clarke gives him one last squeeze. 

"I'm ready, 'cause your arm is really smelly under that cast," Clarke says, bumping him shoulder to shoulder. She's gratified to see Aden smile, then readily hold out his arm for the doctor to examine. But in the back of her mind she knows she and Lexa can't wait any longer to talk.

*

"Stop scratching," Clarke says for the fifth time, guiding Aden through the CVS to pick up some lotion for the tender skin on his newly bare arm.

"But it itches," he complains. Nevertheless he jams his hands in his pockets in an effort to comply.

Clarke reads the aftercare list again, making sure she's not missing anything, and then goes to the self-checkout line, where Aden makes eyes at the boxes of candy set there to tempt impulse shoppers.

"Can I have one? Please?" he asks, pointing to a Milky Way.

Clarke senses she's being manipulated, but the kid did just have a cast removed, so she gestures for him to add it to her items. "Only half though," she says. "You know Lexa's going to have dinner ready soon."

Lexa is in fact already cooking by the time Clarke brings him home. The house is full of good smells when Clarke opens the front door, calling out that Aden is back. He runs into the kitchen, eager to show Lexa his arm, and almost collides with her as she emerges to greet them.

"Look!" he says, waving his pale, shrunken arm at her. "The doctor said it's atrophied!" 

"Here," Clarke says, handing Lexa the papers with the aftercare instructions and the envelope with her health insurance information inside. "He'll need to do some exercises to regain the muscle in his arm." She hefts the plastic pag with the lotion in it. "And this is for his skin, since it'll probably be delicate for a while."

Aden looks back and forth between them, sensing the sudden tension. "Can I go call Indra and Nyko to show them my arm?" he asks. 

"Sure," Lexa says, flashing a brief smile. 

Once he's shut in his room, Lexa steps closer to Clarke, accepting the plastic bag. "Thank you," she says. "You didn't have to do this."

"Of course I did," Clarke says. "You needed help. And I care about Aden too."

The bag crinkles in Lexa's grip. "Clarke..."

"We need to talk," Clarke says firmly. She walks into the kitchen, forcing Lexa to follow her where their voices won't carry as much. "If not now, then soon. Aden asked if I was your partner at the doctor's office."

Lexa's right eyebrow arches. "He asked you that?"

"He's worried because we're not talking."

Lexa jaw visibly clenches as she turns her head away from Clarke. The bag and the papers go on the kitchen counter and she folds her arms. 

"Hey," Clarke says, forcing Lexa's attention back to her. "You were worried about Aden getting involved? It's too late. He's involved. We need to work this out."

Lexa's jaw continues to work, her folded arms drawing in even tighter. 

Clarke can't bear it a second longer; she trails her hand along Lexa's forearm, tracing the flexing muscle there. "Please, Lexa. Just talk to me. I know this is scary, but you can trust me."

"I do trust you, Clarke," Lexa says, staring at Clarke's hand where it rests on her skin. Her eyes flick up. "I trust you more than anyone else or I wouldn't have asked you to help with Aden."

"Lexa," Clarke says, her name drifting into a sigh.

"I'm sorry," Lexa says, and the tension is suddenly draining away and she's slumping forward, pressing her face into Clarke's neck as her arms go around Clarke's waist. "I'm sorry."

Clarke responds automatically, hands rubbing down Lexa's back, keeping her close. 

Lexa isn't crying, but Clarke can feel it in the way she breathes that she wants to. She's folded herself against Clarke, the smallest that Clarke has ever seen her, so different from the perfect posture of her square shoulders and head held high. She cradles the back of Lexa's head with one hand, letting the other continue to rub the small of her back. 

"I'm so sorry," Lexa says. She lifts her head, nose tracing along Clarke's cheek, forehead resting against Clarke's forehead. Her eyes are closed and their mouths hover close but neither of them is willing to close the distance just yet. 

Clarke holds her, giving her time to adjust to feeling whatever she's feeling, giving them both time to realign with each other. 

"Can you stay for dinner?" Lexa whispers. "And we can talk more afterwards."

Clarke wants so badly to kiss Lexa, even something as small as a reassuring little peck, but she holds off. "Yes. I can stay, but only if you really want me to."

"I do," Lexa says, head nodding, not losing contact with Clarke's. "I want you to stay."

"Then I'll stay," Clarke says.

*

Aden is over the moon that Clarke is staying for dinner. She helps him with his homework while Lexa continues cooking Aden's favorite meatloaf and mashed potatoes, although Clarke tosses an extra chunk of butter into the potatoes when Lexa isn't looking. On today of all days, they deserve buttery mashed potatoes.

She catches Lexa watching them at the kitchen table a few times, when Aden is working a problem out on his own and doesn't need her hovering over him. This is so far from where she thought her day was going and it's so much better than what she had planned, even if she can still feel a little tension in the back of her mind, knowing the conversation that's to come.

Dinner itself is light and pleasant and Clarke knows that she and Lexa have managed to seem enough like their old selves for Aden not to feel weird when he clears the table and immediately runs to the living room for his one allotted hour of video games. 

As for her and Lexa, they do the dishes together in silence and then retreat to Lexa's room, closing the door for some privacy.

"So," Clarke says, settling on the edge of Lexa's bed. 

Lexa remains by the door, arms crossed once again, not quite looking at Clarke. "I think you should go first," she says.

"You already know how I feel," Clarke says. "I think this needs to be more about how you feel." She shifts, making it apparent that there's room on the bed, and after a moment Lexa joins her, but with a good bit of space left between them. 

"I'm sorry," she says.

"You said that," Clarke says evenly.

"I want you to know I mean it," Lexa says. "You were right when you said I was scared. It was...I was a coward." She swallows, as though the words physically pain her. "I was getting comfortable but when you brought up how this all is starting to feel real I..." She licks her lips, hands clutching the edge of the mattress. "I used Aden as an excuse to avoid thinking about this. Us."

She looks down at her hands. "Aden needs more than what I can give him."

Clarke's hand hovers over her knee. "Lexa-"

"It's true and we both know it," Lexa says, lifting her eyes, not retreating from Clarke or her own self-judgment. "You were the only person I could call to help with this. I've been so focused on Aden that I didn't think about myself. About bringing more people in his life that he can rely on. That's not fair to him."

"It's not fair to you either," Clarke says, her hand finally landing on Lexa's knee and rubbing soothingly. "I know Aden's your world but you need to take care of yourself too." She squeezes abruptly when it looks like Lexa is about to protest. She knows she has to ask, but it takes everything in her to force the words out. "Lexa, if you're ready, tell me now. We can't go any further until you're sure. _Really_ sure."

Lexa turns, opening up her body. "I don't know," she says honestly, and Clarke starts to feel her insides clench until Lexa looks her right in the eye. "But I want to try. And I won't run away again if I get scared."

"You can't promise that," Clarke says.

"I can. I am," Lexa says firmly. "I promise to tell you if I'm scared, instead of pretending that I'm not, so we can work it out together. Is that enough for you?"

It's not definitive, but nothing ever is. Clarke can see how much Lexa wants this, her body leaning forward now, eyes wide and hopeful. She thinks about how hard it was to be away from Lexa when they weren't even separated for two weeks, and how good it felt to slip back into a routine together. "I think for now it is," Clarke says. Lexa opens up even more, shoulders loosening, hands unclamping from the covers. "But we're not done talking. I think there's more we need to discuss about how we really feel."

Lexa nods. "That's fair."

"But not right now," Clarke says. She scoots closer to Lexa. "For now can we just cuddle a little bit?"

Lexa's smile is slow and warm and spreads from one side of her face to other in charmingly lopsided fashion. She crawls up so that she can prop a few pillows against the headboard and sit against them, then opens up her arms for Clarke, who climbs willingly into them and lets herself be held. 

*

Clarke drifts off, her conversation with Lexa gently descending into the odd murmur until her eyes flutter and she's slumped back into Lexa's body, mouth drifting open in a slight snore. She only wakes up when Lexa shifts her as she gets out of bed.

"Sorry," Lexa whispers, lowering her gently into the pillows. "I have to make sure Aden is getting ready for bed."

"Oh god, I fell asleep before a nine year old," Clarke says. She blinks a few times, trying to work her way out of her sleep haze.

"Stay here and sleep if you want," Lexa says. She drops a kiss onto Clarke's forehead. "Be back in a minute."

Clarke has it in her head that maybe she should get up and go home, but it's been a long week, and an emotionally exhausting night, so she rolls over with the edge of the comforter coming with her and falls asleep again wrapped up like a burrito.

She wakes up again at dawn with no idea how she got under the covers and the vaguest memory of dreaming, loose-limbed and completely comfortable. She hasn't slept this well in days and she's unwilling to get out of the warmth of Lexa's bed, so she snuggles down into her pillow, determined to enjoy an early morning snooze. 

Next to her, Lexa wakes up just enough to roll closer and scoot into Clarke's body, her nose pressed against Clarke's cheek and one arm slipped over Clarke's waist. At first Clarke wouldn't have pegged her for being so clingy in her sleep, but the few times they've shared a bed, Lexa has always curled up around her.

An hour later her body has finally had its fill of sleep and her eyes pop open. Lexa is still limply attached to her, her warm breath leaving a damp patch on Clarke's neck. She has no idea when Lexa came to bed or when she fell asleep; she can't even remember anyone else getting in the bed with her. She slept in all her clothes so Lexa must not have done anything but roll her under the covers.

"Go back to sleep," Lexa mumbles into her skin. 

"I can't. I'm up now," Clarke says. She shifts just far enough that she can roll on her side and look at Lexa's face.

"I'm not."

Clarke nudges Lexa's shin with her foot. "Wake up and make me breakfast."

Lexa squeezes her eyes shut even tighter. "Shhh," she says.

Clarke lets her be for a few more minutes, taking the time to study her face: straight nose, full mouth, the gentle curve of her lashes, the stray curls wandering across her cheek. She can't imagine Captain Forrester, US Army, buttoned up in camouflage fatigues. Lexa doesn't keep any pictures of herself from that time around the house, just a few of her and Aden that must have been taken over the summer, and another one of Lexa with the Nightbloods and their winners' trophy. 

"Lexa," Clarke whispers. She wriggles forward on her pillow so she can bump their noses together. "Lexa."

Lexa sighs a long-suffering sigh. "Pancakes?" she asks, still not opening her eyes.

"Yes."

For a few moments it seems as if Lexa won't budge, but then she rolls out of bed and sits on the edge of the mattress, stretching with her arms above her head until Clarke can hear audible pops along her spine. But then she stands up and whips the covers off the bed, leaving Clarke suddenly cold and shivering in the chill morning air.

Clarke attempts to snatch the covers back even though Lexa is already balling them up possessively. "Hey!" 

"I thought you were already up," Lexa says. 

"I didn't want to be cold," Clarke says pathetically. 

Lexa dumps the covers on the floor, then braces herself with one knee on the mattress to lean over and kiss Clarke on the mouth, soft but brief. "Get up and help me," she says, smiles, and snags her robe on the way out of the bedroom. 

*

It's the first time Clarke has slept over with Aden in the house and it's such a non-event that she doesn't even realize it until he's in the living room watching cartoons. He doesn't seem surprised to see Clarke at breakfast, just happy that she's there. Part of that is probably the pancakes, she has to admit. Lexa tosses some blueberries in to the batter and makes Aden's pancakes vaguely in the shape of a dinosaur. Clarke gets stars and Lexa's are plain round. 

Aden goes to his room to read while Clarke and Lexa clean up, and then it's time to go. 

"I want to take you on another date," Lexa says at the door.

"That's good, because I want to go on another date with you," Clarke says, pulling on her jacket and leaning against the frame.

"I mean, I want you to stay over again. And I want to not freak out the next morning," Lexa says, her chin coming up a little bit, the way it does when she's making a decision.

"Next Friday?" Clarke asks, because she doesn't know if they're ready to try a weeknight yet. 

Lexa nods. "But can I see you before then? Maybe for dinner?"

"Yes," Clarke says with a smile, "Absolutely." She touches Lexa on the cheek and pulls her close with only the barest of tugs from her fingertips. Her lips skim over Lexa's at first, but then they press with conviction, their first real kiss since Lexa left Clarke's apartment two weeks ago. It's familiar, but also new, kissing her with the knowledge that they're going to try, and with their fears out in the open. 

"I'll text you?" Lexa asks.

"I'll text you when I get home," Clarke replies, already looking forward to it.

*

"Lexaaa," Clarke whines, nudging Lexa where she's mid-yawn and huddled against Clarke's side.

"It's late. I'm allowed to yawn," Lexa says. 

They hadn't been able to wait a week. They hadn't even been able to wait a day. Clarke is back at Lexa's and they're curled up together on the couch, Lexa's laptop on the coffee table and the browser open to NASA's home page. The main livestream image is of a launchpad with a large white rocket standing on it, with an inset image of the control room.

"I always stay up for Raven's launches," Clarke says. "I'm her good luck charm."

"Can you be her good luck charm while I sleep?" Lexa asks, but adjusts herself on the couch anyway so that she can sling an arm around Clarke's shoulders.

Clarke's phone lights up with a text.

 **Reyes** (12:32 AM): Yo can you see me?

Clarke immediately leans forward so she can squint at the screen, and just barely makes out a slim dark-haired figure at the edge of the inset image. 

**Clarke** (12:33 AM): I see you you fancy bitch

 **Reyes** (12:33 AM): That's right I'm the fanciest person you know and don't forget it, now watch my probe get launched into the solar system

A voice on the livestream announces that they're approaching final countdown, with one minute left. 

**Clarke** (12:34 AM): Wave at the camera so I can see you and be proud of you

 **Reyes** (12:34 AM): Fuck you

Clarke can see Raven slowly turn her head and smirk directly into the camera.

 **Clarke** (12:34 AM): Fuck you too

She sits back and leans into Lexa, who lets her hand fall onto Clarke's shoulder and squeezes it. "All good?"

"Mm-hmm," Clarke says.

"Lexa?" 

They both look over at the hallway, where a sleepy Aden is standing with a blanket draped around his shoulders. He doesn't seem to like getting out of bed any other way, if he wakes up ahead of schedule, and Clarke finds him hopelessly adorable all wrapped up with his oversized cape.

"Hey buddy, why are you up?" Lexa asks.

"I wanted to watch the rocket launch," he says.

Clarke subtly nudges Lexa with her elbow. 

"Well, okay, since tomorrow is Sunday," Lexa says. She lifts her other arm, and Aden sits down on the couch so that Lexa is sandwiched between him and Clarke. She waits for Aden to wrap himself up in his blanket, then adds her arm around his shoulders too. 

There's only thirty seconds to go now, and a hushed silence falls over the three of them as they stare at the computer screen. 

They all tense as the final countdown begins from ten, Aden scooching forward with his eyes big and shiny. There's a spark, a burst of orange against the black night sky, then the rocket's engines ignite and the orange goes white hot as the rocket becomes airborne.

The people on the control room feed are standing on their feet and clapping. Aden bounces a little in his seat, looking between Clarke and Lexa and the screen, all traces of sleep gone. 

"I wanna make rockets," Aden says.

"I can definitely introduce you to the right person for that," Clarke says. Lexa smiles at her and kisses her on the cheek, heedless of Aden's presence. "What was that for?"

"Because I can," Lexa says, and pulls Clarke closer.


	7. Chapter 7

Lexa grips Clarke's hand again as they wait by the arrivals door. Clarke has never seen her this visibly nervous about anything ever, not even the first night they talked out their issues. 

"It's not any different from meeting Octavia," Clarke soothes her. 

"I met Octavia before I met you," Lexa says, thumb stroking a worn path across the back of Clarke's hand. She cuts her eyes to the side, where Aden's hand is sneaking towards his still fresh arm. "Don't scratch."

His hand goes back in his jeans pocket, but his face has a mutinous look on it that tells Clarke they'll both need to keep on him about it.

"Raven is gonna love you," Clarke says. She squeezes once, and then lets go when she sees the doors open, allowing passengers to trickle into the waiting area. Clarke bobs her head, looking for Raven, who emerges with the first wave, roller bag in tow, cane in hand. 

"Raven!" Clarke says, waving to catch her eye. Raven smiles and changes directions to meet Clarke halfway. Clarke practically bounds the last few steps and grabs Raven in a hug. "Good job with the rocket science."

"Technically I'm in charge of the probe," Raven says, "But I am happy to take any and all credit." She pulls free and looks over Clarke's shoulder, where Lexa is standing with her hands folded behind her back, legs about shoulder-width apart and neck a little too straight not to look incredibly tense. Aden is slightly behind her, his usual spot when meeting new people. 

Clarke holds out her hand, wiggling her fingers a few times to get them both to join her. "Raven, this is Lexa and Aden. Guys, this is Raven."

They shake, Raven very obviously sizing up Lexa, who to her credit doesn't flinch the least bit, the nerves from earlier hidden under a face she undoubtedly developed dealing with high-ranking officers. 

"You're not as tall as I thought you'd be," Raven says neutrally. But she tilts her head to the side and offers Aden a big smile. "But you're exactly as tall as Clarke said you are, which is good, because I brought you this." And she holds out a t-shirt emblazoned with the NASA logo on the front.

Aden's eyes widen slightly as Raven coaxes him out into the open with the shirt. He finally takes it in his hand and holds it up to look at it, then folds the shirt into his chest, looking shyly at Raven's feet. 

Lexa nudges him. "Aden."

"Thank you, Ms. Reyes," he says.

Raven nearly chokes. "Oh my god, call me Raven. I'll give you twenty bucks to never call me Ms. Reyes again."

"Really?" Aden says.

"Shit," says Raven, digging in her back pocket for her wallet.

Lexa is suddenly much less awkward, eyes narrowing at Raven, who shows no signs of apology for swearing. Instead she pulls a crisp twenty from her wallet and hands it over.

"Don't spend it all in once place, kid," she says.

Aden glances up at Lexa, who just sighs. "Yes, you can keep it."

Clarke rolls her eyes; trust Raven Reyes to flip what was supposed to be a simple airport pickup on its head. "Okay, you must be tired after a week in Florida. Let's get you to Octavia's," she says.

"I just had four days of vacation after launch and it's Octavia's birthday, so I'm all fueled up and ready for max burn," Raven says, but she starts walking towards the exit anyway. 

Aden perks up even further at the mention of Octavia, knowing that a meeting with the twins is not far off. He asks Raven a few questions in the car, cautiously at first, but with growing enthusiasm as Raven answers like she's talking to one of her grad students and not a small child. 

Octavia is ready to receive all of them when they arrive at the Blake house and it's apparent that she's been planning the whole day. Lincoln is already grilling even though it's more than nippy outside and Octavia has a bottle of wine opened and aired out, ready for pouring. She presses a full wine glass into Raven's hand as soon as they're in the kitchen and clinks it with her own. "Congratulations on sending yet more junk into outer space," she says. 

"Congratulations on being alive for another year. And that junk cost about seven hundred million dollars, so less with the junk and more with the congratulations," Raven says, nevertheless drinking deep. 

"Seven hundred million dollars," Indra says, sliding into the kitchen in her sock feet, Nyko not far behind her. They take in all the adults and Aden, too many to decide who to acknowledge first, until Raven gestures impatiently with one arm. The twins rush to her and she pretends to stagger backwards, flailing her cane with exaggerated effect.

"Seven hundred million dollars is a lot of money," says Nyko. "Did you bring us gifts?"

Octavia clucks her tongue, but knows the twins won't be satisfied until Aunt Raven has produced the goods. 

Raven points to her suitcase, which she left just outside the kitchen. "Go look in the front pocket, monsters."

They scamper over, little hands tugging the zipper open, and rummage around in the suitcase until they emerge with a box each: a model of the probe for Nyko, and a gliding space shuttle for Indra to throw around. 

"And," Raven says, holding up a finger. She digs in her back pocket and holds out three mission patches. "Now you're official crew members."

Indra and Nyko take theirs right away, but Aden hangs back, unsure if he's included. Raven gestures with it. "You're part of the crew too," she says.

He takes it from her, even more awed than over his t-shirt gift, clearly not expecting to have been acknowledged so much by the twins' fabled Aunt Raven. As for the twins, they jump on Raven again just long enough to give her a perfunctory hug before grabbing their toys and running off to no doubt break something with Indra's glider, shouting for Aden to help them. He doesn't have to be asked twice; he scampers off in their wake, once again at ease in the Blake house. Clarke climbs onto a stool at the kitchen island and Lexa perches on the stool next to her, pouring two glasses of wine while Octavia is preoccupied with adjusting to Raven's particular brand of chaos. 

"Thanks," Octavia says sarcastically. "I love it when you give my children things they can throw. Great birthday gift."

Raven shrugs and sits heavily at the kitchen table, leaning her cane up against the edge. She spots Clarke and Lexa on the stools next to each other, hands brushing idly while they sip their wine. "Okay, so now that I'm finally not trapped by a dozen incompetent grad students, explain." She makes a vague gesture to the two of them.

"Um," Lexa says.

"Be nice," Clarke says, scooting her stool closer to Lexa so their arms press up against each other.

"I'm nice! I'm so nice. Octavia, am I being nice right now?" Raven asks.

"Compared to how she treated the last person you dated, this is amazing," Octavia confirms.

"How did she treat the last person?" Lexa asks, which sets off both Raven and Octavia on his many, many deficiencies. Clarke can see Lexa checking on her, perhaps worried that her taste in partners is being maligned and in such detail, but Clarke is smiling at her friends and her hand squeezes Lexa's without releasing it, so she settles back and watches the show. Raven and Octavia bounce off of each other so well that even their bickering comforts Clarke, taking her back to college when they would stay up late together binge-watching DVDs and eating too much pizza.

Eventually the two of them wind down, but only so Octavia can grab the wine bottle for refills. 

"You guys are gross," Raven says while she holds her glass out for Octavia to fill it. Clarke very deliberately pulls Lexa's hand into her lap.

"You weren't even here to see it going down," Octavia says, sitting next to Raven. "You got to stay in your lab, far far away."

"My lab is disgusting by now and so am I," Raven says. "I'm taking a bath before dinner."

"You just got here," Clarke complains. "I want to hear about Florida."

"I'll tell you over dinner when I don't feel like recycled plane air is living inside my pores," Raven says. She takes her wine glass with her.

"She's gonna use my tub," Octavia says, sighing. "I should bring her extra towels." She hauls herself to her feet and trudges down the hall to the linen closet.

And then Clarke and Lexa are alone in the kitchen, the faint sounds of Lincoln clanking his tongs on the grill reaching them through the sliding patio door, and a mild thunk from the twins and Aden that they should probably investigate at some point.

"How are you doing?" Clarke asks, squeezing Lexa's thigh just above her knee.

"Better than I thought would be," Lexa admits. 

"Good, because it only gets crazier from here," says Clarke.

*

"Crazier" means Octavia has invited more people over, keeping in line with her more-the-merrier policy for parties. When Lexa opens the refrigerator door to pull out veggies to help prepare for dinner, the entire bottom two shelves are packed with marinating meat. She looks helplessly over her shoulder at Clarke, who shrugs. 

"Guess I'll take some of that out to Lincoln," she says, grabbing the topmost tub and hauling it to the patio. Lincoln already has a platter piled high with barbecue chicken and he clacks his tongs in greeting as Clarke thunks down the tub on the table next to the grill. 

"Thanks," he says. 

"How many people are you expecting?" 

He sighs, transferring fresh chicken onto the grill, sending up a delicious sizzle. "Not enough to eat all this. Did you bring the extra tupperware?"

"It's in the car," Clarke says. 

"Good." He glances inside, where Lexa has found the vegetables and is chopping them into chunks for skewers. "How are you guys?"

Clarke follows the direction of his gaze. Octavia returns to the kitchen and says something to Lexa, who waves her off and continues chopping. Then something else that makes Octavia laugh, and Clarke smiles, happy they're getting along. "We're good. Still working out some details, but good."

"Aden is welcome here any time," Lincoln says. "And we have the phone numbers of probably every babysitter in the area, if you need them."

"Thanks," Clarke says, wondering why this conversation with Lincoln feels so strange, and then she realizes he's speaking to her like she's another parent. She's suddenly uncomfortable, almost as though she's being presumptive, and scoots back inside, where she grabs her wine and hugs it close.

"Looks cold out there," Lexa says, putting down her knife so she can slide around the counter and rub her hands up and down Clarke's arms. She's wearing a sweater and she was only on the patio for a minute by the hot grill, but she sways into Lexa's touch anyway. 

They're interrupted by a light click, and Clarke turns to find Octavia has taken a picture of them with her phone. "I'm sending this to Raven," she says gleefully.

"What the hell, she's just down the hall in your bathroom," Clarke says. Lexa pulls away with a resigned look and resumes her chopping.

"I want a record of all of this," Octavia says, typing madly.

A moment later they hear a faint "Oh _come on_ ," from the direction of the master bedroom. 

Clarke narrows her eyes at Octavia but has no more time react because someone has rung the doorbell and Octavia skips out of the kitchen to answer it. Instead Clarke presses against Lexa's back, though she keeps her hands to herself so Lexa can continue slicing a zucchini into equal parts. "You ready?" she mumbles against Lexa's neck. 

"I made it through Raven, so I think everything is downhill from there," Lexa says, rather astutely. 

Sure enough, when Octavia returns to the kitchen with Monty and Jasper in tow, they're more than happy to meet Lexa and talk to her about themselves in between pulling out bottles of liquor they've brought as presents before hitting the living room to start playing music.

A few of Octavia's friends from work are next, and then one of the couples from the soccer team shows up with their daughter in tow, and then a quiet, reserved woman whom Octavia hugs for a long time at the door before bringing her into the kitchen. 

"This is Indra," Octavia says, introducing her to Lexa. 

Lexa's eyebrows go up. "Oh, like..."

"Yeah, little Indra is named for her. She gave me my first job when I was still in college and pregnant with the twins. Kind of took me under her wing." Octavia looks at Indra with adoration and respect, clearly very much still regarding her as a mentor figure.

"You earned that job yourself," Indra says firmly, albeit with a smile that indicates this is an old conversation between the two of them. 

The twins and Aden make a reappearance in the kitchen at the sound of Indra's voice, while their teammate wanders into the living room to find her parents. The younger Indra throws herself into a hug with her namesake. Indra just pats her on the back, and lands one hand on Nyko's shoulder, but the twins seem used to the lack of reciprocation from her. 

"Who is this?" Indra asks, as Aden hangs back behind his friends.

Lexa opens her mouth to introduce him, but then Aden pipes up on his own.

"I'm Aden. Lexa's my aunt," he says.

The adults in the room except for Indra all glance at each other over this new development in Aden's confidence around strangers. 

"Hello Aden," Indra says, as though meeting a colleague at work. She holds out her hand, which Aden shakes solemnly. "It's nice to meet you."

"Thanks for coming Aunt Indra," says Nyko. "Come look at my space probe that Aunt Raven got me!" He takes Indra's hand and young Indra grabs the other and together they gather up Aden and lead her away. 

Lexa makes a thoughtful face as she follows them out of sight and activity in the kitchen resumes. Clarke watches Lexa carefully in turn, the new one among a group of people who have known each other for years, who have a context and a weight and a history that don't involve her. She doesn't look nervous, but she is quiet, simply listening to all the conversations flying around her. 

Clarke hovers near her, every so often brushing the small of her back and earning a subdued but happy look each time. Clarke sees her smile minutely at some joke and thinks that this might be the beginning of their group history with Lexa, the story they'll all point to when they're reminiscing about back in the day.

Lexa finishes assembling her vegetables on skewers and puts them on a tray to bring to Lincoln. "Be right back," she says to Clarke, as though she won't be but ten feet away on the patio.

In the background, Clarke can see Octavia biting her lip in an effort to stay silent, her face screaming how precious she thinks it all is, perhaps magnified by her happiness that her friend is seeing someone. Her phone is in her hand once again and Clarke knows that Raven is getting a play by play of all of this in the tub. She doesn't really mind; she knows they're just excited for her, and that it means they like Lexa too. She can deal with some teasing over finally finding a relationship worth working on. 

Lexa stays outside for a while, talking to Lincoln about something that has them both gesturing emphatically at the grill a few times. 

"Oh no. She's convincing him our grill is fine," Octavia says, joining Clarke as she watches from the stools. 

"Isn't it?" Clarke asks. It's the same grill the Blakes have had for three years now, and it's handled every barbecue just fine in that time.

"It is fine, but it could be _better_. I want a better grill."

"She means bigger," Raven says, swanning into the kitchen in fresh clothes with her hair still damp, smelling of soap and shampoo and looking much less rumpled than she did in the airport.

"No one told me Rocket Reyes was in town," Jasper says, coming in from the living room, Monty by his side.

"Don't call me that," says Raven. "And yes, I have graced you all with my presence because my probe successfully launched and is now on a five-year journey to Jupiter so I get to have a vacation."

"Speaking of probes-"

Monty punches Jasper in the arm so hard he has to cut off his sentence. "Congratulations," he says.

Clarke is grateful that Indra is still with the twins. 

*

The house is full. Lexa is doing surprisingly well, but then again, Clarke supposes remembering some new names and making small talk is less pressure than being deployed to Afghanistan. It's a different kind of pressure, though, and she saw how nervous Lexa was at the airport with Raven. So after about an hour she tugs Lexa outside where Lincoln has lit the fire pit and pulls them both into one of the low-slung wooden patio chairs, Lexa falling gracefully into her lap. Her arms go around Clarke's neck and she smiles, open and happy. 

"You okay?" Lexa asks.

"I'm supposed to ask you that," Clarke says. "I don't want you to get overwhelmed."

"It was a little," Lexa says, still smiling a bit at Clarke. She caresses Clarke's cheek and dips her head for a kiss. 

Clarke tilts her head up and meets Lexa halfway, content to live in this moment with the crackling warmth of the fire nearby and Lexa's wine-sweet mouth on hers. 

"Gross gross gross gross," says Raven, joining them and dragging a chair as close as possible to the fire before sitting down with a red solo cup.

"Please stop kissing at my party, there are impressionable children here," says Octavia, joining them on the other side with a beer in one hand and a bottle of tequila in the other.

"Yeah, they're gonna think that Clarke is actually happily dating someone. How is Octavia supposed to explain that to her kids?" Raven deadpans. 

Lexa moves as though she's going to get up but Clarke tightens her arms around her waist to hold her in place. Lexa relaxes back into her, though she only leaves one arm draped casually across Clarke's shoulders and the other rests on the chair arm. "Did someone bring my drink?" Clarke asks. 

"Who are we?" Octavia asks, producing four shot glasses from who knows where and laying them out on the lip of the fire pit, then unscrewing the tequila bottle. She splashes out four generous shots and hands them over, Lexa passing on a glass to Raven. 

"To me on my birthday," Octavia says, raising her glass. She looks directly at Lexa. "And to new friends who are expanding our little family." She downs her shot smoothly, followed by Raven and Clarke. 

Lexa falters a bit; Clarke can see her hand hesitate, but she swallows the shot a moment later without fuss. The glasses clink onto the brick, catching the light from the flames. 

They stay around the fire for a little while longer while the tequila soaks into them, relaxing into a light conversation about nothing in particular. Clarke can feel Lexa grow more and more at ease, until she actually lands some banter on Octavia about wanting a new grill. She can see Octavia looking surprised and pleased and Raven smirking at her and rests her head against Lexa's shoulder with a lazy smile on her face, happy to stay here for the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**ONE MONTH LATER**

Clarke wakes up in her bed feeling too warm, even though it's frigid outside. Winter is well and truly entrenched in D.C. and Clarke is completely wrapped in her comforter as is her tendency. More than once now she and Lexa have woken up, one too warm, the other too cold, and had to sleepily rearrange themselves under the covers.

Lexa isn't in bed, though, her side gone cold, and Clarke wriggles around until she's in the center of the mattress with one foot sticking out in the cold air. She dozes until the door opens and she feels the edge of the bed dip, and a soft mouth kisses her on the temple.

"Hi," Clarke mumbles, face half-mashed into her pillow, eyes still closed.

"Time to get up. We're having brunch with your mom before we pick up Aden, remember," Lexa says.

Clarke exhales heavily through her nose and finally deigns to start waking up properly. She cracks her eyelids and finds Lexa in her winter running gear, all black Underarmour with reflective highlights on the calves and forearms. Lexa pulls off her gloves and touches Clarke's cheek, sending her shrinking back across the mattress. 

"You're so cold," Clarke complains, comforter going over her head and encasing her in a warm shell. Not that it does much to deter Lexa, who climbs on top of Clarke, comforter and all. Clarke continues whining. "You're smothering me."

"Which is it, I'm too cold, or I'm smothering you?" Lexa asks.

Clarke finally pulls down the covers enough to expose the top of her head. "Why are you so eager to meet my mom?"

"You're the one who set this up," Lexa says. "And I'm eager to not be late, because I want to make a good first impression."

More muffled grumbling, but Clarke strains a little against Lexa's weight, which gets her to roll off so Clarke can sit up properly with the covers lumped up around her waist. 

"Morning," Lexa says, kissing Clarke properly on the mouth.

Clarke only has a moment to kiss back before Lexa slides off the bed and walks to the bathroom, pulling her top off as she goes. Clarke watches her with growing interest, enjoying the complex ripple of the small muscles in her back, the way her shoulders look outlined by the straps of her sports bra. "I liked it better when you didn't go running and we woke up together," Clarke says, though her eyes roam down to the v that trails under Lexa's waistband.

For Lexa, who used to perform daily physical training but had to adapt to an irregular workout schedule once she started taking care of Aden, these runs are part of learning to take care of herself too, and Clarke is only half serious. But she definitely prefers waking up with Lexa, who despite her morning runs is just as much a sucker for sleeping in and cuddling as Clarke. It's the discipline of it, Clarke thinks, allowing herself a routine from her army days instead of molding herself solely to Aden's needs.

"We can still wake up together," Lexa says, giving Clarke a very earnest look from the door of the bathroom.

Clarke weighs the lingering warmth of the bed to Lexa, standing there in a red sports bra and tights, still sweating lightly. She disentangles herself from the covers. "Get the water warm," she says. "I'll join you.

*

Clarke fidgets nervously in her seat, plucking at her sweater sleeves as though they're too tight. She envies Lexa her ability to sit still in her chair, although there's that air of rigidity about her spine that suggests she's not entirely relaxed either. She's probably gripping her own knee under the table, but it's hard to tell. She spots Abby first, standing up smoothly from her chair like they're at a formal event.

Clarke stands up too to receive her mom's hug, and then Abby shakes Lexa's hand, and they all sit down together, Abby and Lexa facing each other with Clarke between them at the polished wood table. This is one of the nicer brunch spots downtown but they're early enough to have beaten the sleep-in crowd, so they were able to grab a good spot by the big front windows. 

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Lexa says, which has Clarke biting her cheek hard to stop from laughing.

Abby seems similarly amused, but keeps it to a polite smile. "Call me Abby."

"Of course." 

Clarke feels something brush her leg, and then she realizes Lexa is groping for her hand under the table. She grabs Lexa's fingers, squeezing them once, before placing Lexa's hand on her thigh and covering it lightly. "Mom, Lexa is a teacher at St. Rebecca's."

"Where you went," Abby notes. "What do you teach?"

"Gym," Lexa says, and even though she's never seemed uncomfortable about her work before, she looks at Clarke for a moment, and Clarke can tell that she doesn't want to be judged by her girlfriend's mom for not having a good enough job. 

"For the entire school," Clarke points out. "And she started a self defense class for girls."

"You probably would have enjoyed that class if it was available when you went there," Abby says. 

Clarke is suddenly struck by a half-formed fantasy of crushing on the hot gym teacher and has to take a sip of her water. 

"The kids seem to like it," Lexa says, oblivious to the mini-meltdown happening just to her left. 

"How long have you worked at St. Rebecca's?" Abby asks, which jolts Clarke out of her daydreaming with a wince since she's already asked her mom to go easy on the background questions. Lexa knows that Clarke has told Abby everything but just because she's fine with her girlfriend's mom knowing, that doesn't mean she's okay yet to talk openly about her past. 

"Not long. I started over the summer." Lexa's hand isn't tightening on her leg, a good sign.

"How do you like St. Rebecca's?"

"It's a nice school. They let me teach without looking over my shoulder too much. The kids are nice."

Clarke almost snorts at that; in her time at St. Rebecca's there was no shortage of asshole kids of rich parents and she doubts it's changed much. She sips again from her water glass before she can make an uncharitable expression.

"Clarke told me your nephew goes to St. Rebecca's as well."

"I took the job to be close to him," Lexa says. The lightest pressure from her hand and Clarke is about to interrupt, but then Lexa continues to speak. "After he lost his parents, I needed a job with the right hours, and the school gives preferential hiring to veterans. I got lucky."

"But you're still a great teacher," Clarke points out, and Lexa sends her a quirked up little smile meant just for her. 

She's glad when the waiter comes, letting them take a breather to order and consider mimosas. Clarke and Abby both have a glass but Lexa declines so she can drive. Clarke finds herself wondering if Lexa has ever even been drunk, if she ever got wild with army buddies or had one too many in college. Later, she'll ask, knowing that Lexa feels comfortable telling her these things now.

Lexa takes the lead a little, clearly settling into the conversation. "Clarke says you're a doctor."

"Chief of cardiothoracic surgery," Abby says, the way she's always recited her title, but to Clarke it comes out like a snobbish correction and she finds herself checking back and forth between her girlfriend and her mom, trying to ride the current of their conversation.

Lexa still seems fine. "That sounds intense."

"It can be. I think I would rather perform heart surgery than deal with several hundred pubescent children every day," Abby says, eyes crinkling slightly.

Lexa mirrors her good humor, hand slipping back to her own lap. "It's not so bad. They just need to feel engaged and respected."

"I think that's an admirable stance from a teacher," Abby says, and just like that everything else is easy. She talks about some of her more interesting surgeries, some light gossip from the hospital that Clarke is actually interested in since she knows most of the players. Lexa talks about the school, and lightly touches on Aden. They both talk about Clarke's artwork, Abby about how she was unsure of Clarke's career at first and Lexa about how intimidated she was at first to express an opinion.

"Wait," Clarke interrupts. "Are you talking about that first time? At Dana's gallery?"

"What first time at Dana's gallery?" Abby asks while Lexa shrugs a little.

"During the soccer season. After one of the games I took Lexa to Dana's gallery while Aden was with the twins," Clarke explains.

"I thought you two started dating about two months ago." Abby seems genuinely put out.

"We did. Officially. We were just hanging out," Clarke says.

"Hanging out," Abby repeats, the way she used to repeat the slang she heard Clarke using as a teenager.

"Clarke was nice enough to show me around. I haven't had a lot of time to explore the city," Lexa says. Now it's Clarke's turn to touch Lexa, brushing her knee thankfully.

Abby looks at Clarke. "Mmm."

Clarke reaches for her mimosa, wondering how she ended up more nervous than her girlfriend to have brunch with her mom.

*

Lexa excuses herself to use the bathroom while they're settling the bill. Abby insisted on picking it up, a thanks from her for getting to spend time with them both. Lexa hadn't really known how to respond to that except with a somewhat flustered thank you, and now Clarke is left with Abby giving her a sappy little smile.

"She's nice," Abby says.

"Good. I'm glad you like her." Clarke tries not to keep checking for when Lexa is coming back.

"She's not as closed off as I thought she'd be."

"I didn't really expect her to be so open with you," Clarke admits. "But I guess I was worried for nothing."

"She's trying, I can tell." 

"She's made a lot of progress." Clarke makes a subdued snorting sound. "Raven asked for her number so they can text."

"You think that's a good idea?" Abby asks, plainly remembering how Raven was a multiplier for trouble once she joined Clarke and Octavia's high school clique. 

"Hell no," Clarke says. "But when have I ever been able to stop Raven from doing something she wanted to do?"

They exchange mutual knowing looks. Abby's eyes shift and Clarke abruptly stops talking, knowing that Lexa is approaching their table. Her hand lightly brushes along Clarke's shoulder as she takes her seat, a gesture meant to comfort Lexa as much as it does Clarke, if the way she reaches out for Clarke in all the little moments means anything. 

"What's next for your day?" Abby asks brightly, gathering up her purse.

"Picking up Aden, then not much else because it's a school night," Clarke says. She doesn't miss how her mother's head tilts at the answer, eyes shifting towards Lexa and back.

"Well say hello for me. I'd like to meet him soon, if that's all right," Abby says.

"Of course. Soon," Lexa says. She stands with Abby, once again going to shake her hand, but instead Abby slides around the table and pulls her into a light hug. Lexa stiffens at first, but only for a moment, maybe not even long enough for Abby to notice, even if Clarke does. Her arms go around Abby's waist, tentatively holding her until Abby lets go.

Abby hugs Clarke too and then breezes out of the restaurant. leaving Lexa looking slightly relieved. 

"She likes you," Clarke says, grabbing Lexa's hand. "She thinks you're great."

"I like her too." Lexa squeezes Clarke's hand, the other reaching for her sunglasses on the table. "Thank you for scheduling brunch."

"I got a free brunch out of my mom," Clarke says smugly. "I did it for both of us."

*

Much to their surprise, Aden is slightly whiny when they arrive to pick him up from the Blake house. This is his fourth sleepover with the twins, the third one since Lexa had to pick him up, and he's already adjusted to being away from home overnight and in fact wants to spend the rest of the day playing with Indra and Nyko. 

Lexa's face grows stern as she looks at Aden, but she says nothing. 

"I know, it's a school night," he says, and goes to pack up his backpack. 

"He was great," Lincoln says once he's out of earshot. "They were up a little late though because someone thought she would share some scary stories she learned at school." 

"Oh no," Clarke says, because the last time Indra went on a scary story kick, she and Nyko got an hour into The Exorcist before Lincoln discovered them. Indra was fine, but Nyko was unable to sleep anywhere but his parents' bed for two weeks. "How bad was it?"

"Not bad. She realized Nyko and Aden were getting too scared and stopped," Lincoln says, sounding a little surprised by it, but gratified all the same.

"Huh," Clarke says thoughtfully.

Aden comes back with his backpack slung over his shoulder and the twins in his wake. They both fist bump him goodbye and he politely thanks Lincoln for letting him stay before moving over to stand by Lexa. 

"Any time," Lincoln says warmly, one hand on each of the twins' shoulders. 

Aden is disappointed when they pull up in front of Clarke's apartment building. Lexa would have dropped her off first, but Clarke wanted to see Aden since he got dropped off at the Blake house on Saturday before Lexa picked her up. "Can't you stay for dinner?" he asks.

"Sorry buddy. School night," Clarke says, repeating the standard line even though she does want to stay for dinner. She still hasn't tried staying over when they have work the next day but they're working up to it. She can feel it's the next conversation they want to have.

"I wish you didn't live so far away," Aden mutters, slumping in the back seat. 

"Me too. But I'll see you next weekend, okay?"

He nods, still a little cranky from having to leave his friends, compounded by also not getting to see Clarke much. She tugs his pant leg so that he looks up at her. 

"I promise. Next weekend."

He musters a smile for her. "Can it be just us?"

Clarke pauses in surprise, wanting to look at Lexa for permission, reassurance, help, anything. But she doesn't want Aden to think there's anything wrong with his request. "If you want, sure," she says as easily as she can.

"Okay," he says, smiling for real now. "Bye Clarke."

"Bye," she says, just barely remembering to brush Lexa's cheek with a kiss as she gets out of the car.

Once inside, it occurs to her to talk to Lexa about this, and she pulls out her phone to text her, knowing that she won't respond until she's done driving.

 **Clarke** (12:11 PM): So I didn't know what to say to Aden in the car but I panicked

She leaves her phone in the bedroom to charge and putters around a bit, grabbing a sketchbook and picking out some music on her laptop. She hears the faint ding of a return text as she's working on the splatter of water droplets on a bare shoulder, laced with wet curlicues of hair. 

In the bedroom, she swipes open the new text, slightly nervous about the reply.

 **Lexa** (12:37 PM): It's ok, you were surprised

The ellipsis bubble pops up and Clarke stares at the screen, waiting.

 **Lexa** (12:38 PM): It's ok if you can't hang out

She frowns.

 **Clarke** (12:38 PM): I can, it's not a problem, is it ok with you?

 **Lexa** (12:39 PM): You really want to spend the day with Aden?

 **Clarke** (12:39 PM): Of course, and I promised him. We can do something fun

 **Lexa** (12:40 PM): Ok

 **Lexa** (12:41 PM): Do you want to pick him up from school Friday?

Clarke smiles, unexpectedly happy at the offer. 

**Clarke** (12:41 PM): Sure, we'll go to the zoo or something and we'll bring dinner home for you

 **Lexa** (12:42 PM): Sounds like a plan

 **Lexa** (12:42 PM): And please get at least one healthy thing for dinner

 **Clarke** (12:42 PM): ;) 

Clarke grips her phone with both hands, hardly able to wait for Friday.

*

Clarke can't help but text Lexa with increasing frequency as Friday approaches, asking if Aden has been talking about anything more than usual lately, where they've been recently so Clarke doesn't repeat a trip. Finally Lexa tells her that Aden just wants to spend time with her, the location doesn't matter, and that sends Clarke into an even deeper indecision spiral that she nevertheless hides from Lexa so she doesn't seem completely incompetent.

But it's her first time one on one with Aden and she wants it to be perfect. She wants to show Lexa she can take care of Aden and she wants Aden to look at her the way he sometimes looks up at Lexa, happy and innocent again and feeling like he's safe and with someone he can trust. It took Clarke so long after her father died to feel even close to that again and if she can give that to Aden while he still has a childhood left to enjoy, she will.

Friday finally rolls around and Clarke can feel her stomach grumbling in anxiety. She's even asked Octavia for help, which got her an e-mail with a list of things the twins like and no snark whatsoever, as though Octavia knows she's too nervous to be teased right now.

Lexa and Aden are waiting for her at the school's pickup spot. Clarke pulls up to the curb and rolls down her window, smiling at the pair of them in their matching pea coats. "Hi guys."

"Hi Clarke!" he says brightly. 

Lexa has to pull him back with a short hug, he's so eager to get in the car. "I'll see you guys in a few hours." She looks like she wants to duck her head inside the driver's side window, maybe give Clarke a kiss in greeting, but there are other cars waiting. 

"See you for dinner," Clarke says. Behind her, Aden clicks in his seatbelt and beams expectantly into the rearview mirror.

"Something healthy," Lexa reminds her as she pulls away. 

"No guarantees," Clarke calls out the open window, making Aden laugh. After she turns onto the road, she returns Aden's grin in the mirror. "How was school today?"

"Great. I told all my friends you were coming to get me and we were gonna..." Aden tilts his head. "Where are we going? Lexa said it was a surprise."

Which is what Clarke told her to cover for the fact that she hadn't come up with an idea until last night. "You'll see when we get there."

She drives into D.C. and finds a metered spot just a block from their destination, a stroke of luck as people leave work early on Friday. Aden follows her onto the sidewalk, looking around curiously, taking her hand by habit the way he does with Lexa. But she's the only adult with him now, and she hopes he can't feel how her pulse picks up as his little palm slides against hers. 

They walk down the block to a shiny building that's all windows, with a slight curve at one end.

"What is this?" Aden asks.

"Welcome to NASA headquarters," Clarke says proudly. 

His mouth drops open and he cranes his neck to stare hard at the building, clearly not expecting what he thought was just another office park to be the headquarters of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. "Really?"

"Really." She guides him inside, where the one and only Raven Reyes is waiting for them.

"Hey champ," she says, leaning on her cane with one hand, the other holding two lanyards printed with the NASA logo. 

"Raven!" He's practically bouncing on his feet now, hardly able to stand still as they go through the visitor entry procedure and get checked in and scanned by security. Once on the other side of the x-ray machine, they clip their visitor badges onto the lanyards Raven is holding. She places Aden's around his neck and winks at him, making him blush.

Raven straightens up and heads towards a pair of doors that require her to scan her badge. "You're now officially inside NASA HQ. Follow me." 

They walk after Raven, passing the occasional staffer, most of them carrying paperwork or tablets. Aden is wide-eyed, staring at the pictures on the walls and fingering the badge dangling in front of his chest. Clarke keeps a hand on his shoulder to guide him so he doesn't bump into anything.

They take an elevator up to the top floor and go down another long hallway, until they stop in front of a pair of gleaming wooden doors fronted by an assistant's desk. 

"Hey Tuck, tell him I'm here with my guests," Raven says, pausing at the desk.

The young man sitting there lifts his desk phone and talks briefly to someone before motioning them ahead. Raven goes first, pushing open one of the doors and holding it for Clarke and Aden.

A surprisingly baby-faced man with curly black hair going grey at the temples stands up from his desk, buttoning the jacket of his charcoal gray suit. 

"Hey boss. These are my friends Clarke and Aden." Raven takes a few more steps towards the desk, one hand out to gesture. "Guys, this is Fidalgo Sinclair, the director of NASA."

Clarke thinks Aden might pop on the spot, but he remembers enough of his manners to shake Director Sinclair's hand and utter a very shy, "Hi."

"I've heard a lot about you," he says as he shakes Clarke's hand.

"Oh?" She cocks an eyebrow at Raven, who just smirks.

"I tell him a lot of stuff." Raven promptly turns to Aden, ignoring Clarke. "Director Sinclair here helped me become the scientist I am today and when Clarke told me you want to make rockets, I thought I'd better bring you in and get you started right."

"We have some good science programs for kids your age," Sinclair says. He pulls an oblong velvety box from his pocket. "And I think you could use this there."

Aden receives it with both hands, waiting for Clarke to nod at him before he pulls off the ribbon tied around the middle and cracks it open, revealing a beautifully fashioned silver pen with the NASA logo engraved in miniature on the body. 

"It's a space pen," says Raven. "She'll write in zero gravity, upside down, underwater, wherever."

"Thank you," Aden breathes, staring at his new gift. 

"Let's take a pic," Raven suggests, and has Aden stand in front of the desk first with Director Sinclair, then with Clarke, and then both of them. Through it all Sinclair humors them with the obvious fondness of a mentor for a favorite student, and near the end of their visit, hands Aden his business card.

"I hope to see you in this building some day," he says. 

"Yes sir," Aden says. 

Sinclair shakes hands with them one last time, and then Raven guides them out. 

"You owe me," Raven tells her once they're turning in their badges at the exit. 

"You're a hero," Clarke responds, hugging her in farewell before she shakes hands with Aden, who looks like he might have a new crush.

There's a little weak sunlight left outside; their visit with the director was short, for all that it was huge in magnitude, and Clarke makes sure Aden is bundled up in his coat before turning to him with a question. "Ready for part two of our hangout?"

He looks surprised. "There's a part two?" 

"Yeah. The National Air and Space Museum doesn't close until five-thirty. We've got plenty of time," Clarke says, holding out her hand. Aden grabs it, already tugging her in the right direction.

*

They're running slightly late for dinner but Clarke knows how Lexa frets, so she texted ahead, and now she and Aden are both trying not to dig in the bags of food they got even though the smell of burgers and fresh fries has permeated the car in the best possible way.

Aden at least has something to distract him as he fiddles with the Saturn V model rocket Clarke got for him in the gift shop. She was tempted to get him everything he so much as looked at but she's aware she can't play the Cool Aunt Clarke here. She can't spoil him with the expectation of just dropping him off for Lexa to discipline. He was allowed to pick one thing within a price range and she stuck to it, even though she really wanted to sweep a pile of toys into a bag and give them to him.

Lexa is waiting at the front door for them as they walk up the steps to the porch, framed by the warm glow of light from inside.

"Hi," Clarke says, finally able to drop a small kiss at the corner of her mouth as she walks in, toeing off her shoes on the mat by the door. 

"Hi," Aden repeats, hugging Lexa awkwardly since he doesn't want to put down his rocket. 

"Did you have a good time?" she asks, helping him take off his coat.

Aden is off, explaining that he met the _director_ of _NASA_ which has Lexa giving Clarke a startled look before returning her attention to Aden. It gives Clarke time to pull off her jacket and leave her purse by the front table and go into the kitchen, where Lexa has already set out places. A peek inside the freezer reveals she also bought ice cream, full well knowing that Clarke would bring home a treat meal. Lexa is probably more inclined to spoil Aden than Clarke is, still haunted by the guilt of not being there for him before, but she's definitely better at controlling herself. Usually. 

She sets out the food, Lexa's turkey burger with side salad at the top of the table, Aden's kids' meal to her left, Clarke's bacon cheeseburger and fries to her right. She can see that Lexa has ambitiously left a casserole tray of roasted Brussels sprouts to cool on top of the oven. She transfers them to a bowl and brings them to the dinner table to appease her.

Aden eventually wanders into the kitchen with Lexa in his wake, still chattering about his day as he climbs into his chair. 

Lexa moves towards the stove, as though remembering something, then looks to the bowl of Brussels sprouts on the table. Clarke smiles at her, pulling out her chair. Her hand slides across Lexa's shoulder as she sits, another quiet hello between them to follow up on later.

Aden only stops talking once his mouth is full of food since he knows better than to speak while chewing, but he somehow manages to even chew happily, pleased with his adventure and his gifts. Clarke couldn't imagine any better feeling than seeing him so happy.

"Good day?" Lexa asks Clarke. 

Clarke reaches for her hand under the table. "The best."

*

Clarke's favorite part of staying over, besides the sex, is wrapping herself around Lexa under the covers with her ear over Lexa's heart and Lexa's fingers drawing lazy little patterns on her back until she dozes off. Sometimes she uses her free hand to read, and Clarke will become lulled by the sound of pages scraping at regular intervals.

No sex tonight; Lexa still isn't comfortable doing too much with Aden in the house. But it was nice straddling her lap, trading kisses with Lexa's hands roaming under her shirt and in her hair until they both got sleepy. They got ready for bed together, taking turns brushing their teeth, Clarke borrowing a pair of boxers and a soft t-shirt with faded lettering on the front that once said ARMY. It's perhaps one of the few army-related items that Lexa keeps in the house; Clarke had found it at the bottom of her t-shirt drawer the last time she was looking for a sleep outfit to borrow and Lexa had told her to wear it, unsubtly admiring her in it as it hitched up slightly around her hips to reveal a strip of pale skin. She's starting to think she needs to keep a pair of pajamas at Lexa's house.

Lexa reads for a while, Clarke in her usual position, letting her mind drift since it always takes her longer than Lexa to fall asleep. Eventually Lexa folds up her book and slides it onto the side table, then hits the lamp, plunging them into near-darkness. They rustle around a bit, rearranging themselves into a comfortable sleeping position. 

"The league asked me to coach indoor soccer this winter," Lexa says. "I was thinking of asking Aden if he wanted to sign up with the twins. It would be their last chance to play together if Indra joins a travel team in the spring."

"I think that sounds nice," Clarke says, slightly muffled by the fabric of Lexa's sleep shirt. "Does it start early in the morning?"

"By your standards, yes," Lexa says, and Clarke can tell she's smiling from her voice.

"Okay. Send me the schedule," Clarke mumbles. She misses whatever Lexa says next, already asleep.


End file.
